#so technically in the story the headlights are facing him

[verefex]

yoinked

Scene from my story, in which Sky nearly has a whole car full of snacks. Thank goodness for that perfectly-placed flashlight beam.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

𝜗𝜚 Down the Rabbit Hole 𝜗𝜚

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Captain John Price x Fem!Reader

Work Count: 4.9k (I don't know what happened...)

Summary: Reader wanders a little too far off the path. Good thing such a nice older man came to help.

A/N: It's halloween y'all!! I freaking love halloween and all things spooky and scary. So I thought maybe I should write something really scary to fit the occasion. Okay so technically yesterday was halloween but better late than never. Let me know what you guys think. I don't think I have any smut out yet?? So please let me know any feedback or thoughts you have. I love you all so much!! 𝜗𝜚

Warnings: This story contain dark themes. Not to spoil but this one does contain DUBCON/NONCON elements, intoxicated reader, drugging, light bondage, kidnapping, forced impregnation. If you are not in the headspace the read this please scroll on. I will write some nicer things in the future.

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With a sigh you pull out your phone, the blue light illuminating your face in the dark night. Just to find you have no cell signal this far out, of course. You try calling a few people but not a single call would go through. A simple dial tone rang out much to your dismay. Leaning back against the bumper of your car, you can feel the heat radiating off your exposed engine. You look towards the propped open hood of your tired vehicle. 

The hissing machinery creates a pillar of steam when mixing with the chilled October air. Your leg bounces nervously while your eyes scan the surrounding forest. There are no street lights, no houses, not even the sound of cars whizzing by on a nearby roadway. Just dark woods and the crickets chirping. You mentally curse yourself and your friends for convincing you to drive so far out on your own. 

You spend a long twenty minutes going back and forth between trying to find service along the road way and seeking warmth in the shelter of your car. Your costume doesn't provide much cover against the autumn cold. Clad only in a restricting corset top, tiny ruffled shorts, fishnet stocking, and shiny white heels. Topped off with a pair of fuzzy bunny ears fixed to a headband and a little white tail attached right above your butt. It looked better in your mirror at home when you were imagining sitting in a hot crowded house party surrounded by familiar faces. 

Your focus breaks from the car's owner manual when you hear a distant rumbling. You hop out of the driver's side seat and look to see a blinding set of headlights coming your way. As the lights come closer at a rapid speed you wave and step closer to the asphalt to catch the driver's attention. 

Thankfully it begins to slow and rumbles to a stop a few feet short of your car. The driver kills the engine along with the annoyingly bright LEDs. Thet turn their hazard lights on, bathing the area in a blinking orange glow. You are stunned for a moment while your sight adjusts back to the dim night. You make out the shape of a large pickup truck through spotted vision. Its boxy silhouette shows a vehicle past its prime and out of style. You take that as a good sign thinking the owner must know something about taking care of cars. 

The driver's side door creaks open and out comes a pair of boots dropping onto the roadside. When they slam the door you see a large shadow saunter towards you. Heavy steps crunch on the earth below. 

"Thanks for stopping" You cross your exposed arms over your chest hoping they don't see the way you're shaking. You pretend like this isn't a total horror movie scene right now. Telling yourself the shivers are from the frigid air, not fear.

"You alright?" A thickly accented english voice asks. The figure finally reaches you. You have to crane your neck up to look him in the face, his broadness could swallow your quivering frame. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. My car not so much" you gesture back to the front of your lifeless automobile. He looks over you and hums in understanding.

"I can take a look for you," He steps past and takes in the sight under your hood. “What happened?” He takes a moment to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt and scrunch up the sleeves. 

“I don't know. I was just driving and then I heard some weird sounds then it started driving funny.” you attempt to explain.

“What kind of sounds?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug.

“Like a rattling, a pop, what?” 

“If I am being completely honest I had the radio up kinda loud so I can’t really remember. I just know I heard something then it started to shake and slow down.”

You watch as he leans forward, large hands braced against the low bumper. "Do you have a flashlight?" his tone is flat, is he mad at you?

"Yeah," you pull your phone and click on the flashlight. You stand on the side of the car and try to hold it steady with both of your shaking hands. 

"You can come a little closer," he looks up and smiles. "I don't bite"

You give a nervous chuckle and step around to the front of the car. Still careful to keep a good amount of distance from the stranger. 

"Can you- here let me just," his large hand wraps around your wrist and gently draws your hand further out until you're almost bent over reaching across the space. "That's better." 

He checks different areas, twisting and tapping on a few parts. Checking the levels of the various fluids. Occasionally repositioning the angle of your flashlight with a firm yet polite adjustment of your arm. 

"Have you called anyone yet?" His gentle eyes look up from underneath his thick brow. 

You hesitate for a moment considering the implication of your answer. He holds your stare as you try not to appear nervous. "Yes, I called roadside assistance but they won't be here for a while. They know I'm here though." You rush out a lie. 

"Hm, yeah we're pretty out" he looks back at the machinery. He stands up straight, brushes his hands off on the thighs of his jeans. "Looks like you're not going anywhere."

Your stomach tightens and you pull back your flashlight leaving you both in the darkness. 

"I can fix it but I'm going to need to go back to my place and grab some tools" He pulls the hood of your car down and slams it shut. "Or you can wait for the guy to get here. You'll be waiting for a while though"

You hold your phone tight in your palm feeling torn between trusting this stranger or going back to being stranded. "Um," it's hard to think with the constant waves of shivers going through you.

"Or you can stay here in the middle of the woods by yourself. Up to you," He pulls his keys from his pocket with a jingle and walks around you, back in the direction of his truck. 

You look between your own car, the dark tree line, and the tall man getting further away. 

"Okay!" You call to him. He turns and watches as you reach into your open car door to grab your purse and keys. You lock the door behind you and walk towards him. 

You hear his door squeak open then his truck rev to life you. You quicken your pace to reach the passenger side, not wanting to be left alone here for another second. Before you can grab the handle he is reached over the long bench seat pushing to open from the inside. 

"Glad you could make it," his cheeky smile causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners.

"Better than getting mauled by a bear" You haul yourself up and into the seat. The interior is still warm which allows you to relax a bit while your shiver subside. You take in the roomy cab of his truck. Nice leather seat, very clean, smells good. Surely he is just a kind older man wanting ti help out a stranded, clueless woman. 

"You'd be alright. Bears normally hunt in the mornings. Bobcats on the other hand, that's what you've got to watch out for." He places his hand on the gear shifter, "Seatbelt," and nods down towards the unclipped buckle.

"Okay but first, can you promise you're not going to kidnap or kill me?" You stare him down as he holds a faint smile.

"I'm not going to kill you," he chuckles

"You see, that's exactly what a murderer would say," you are only half joking with that statement but buckle yourself in anyways.

"I guess you're going to have to trust me then" He focuses his eyes forward and pulls onto the road. 

"I don't even know your name." 

"I don't know yours either" he counters

"Fair enough," you consider it for a moment before telling him your name, and he tells you his. 

"I don’t mean to be rude but, what's with the outfit?" he glanced your way for a moment. You don't miss the way his eyes trace down your figure. 

"I'm a bunny, duh." You point to the fluffy ears fixed to your headband. His brows remains drawn in confusion. "It's halloween," you continue stating the obvious. 

"Is it?" he finally puts it together. "My work has been hectic. It's easy to lose track of time. Heading to a party, then?" he asks.

"Was. I think I took a wrong turn a few miles back but I lost my cell signal so, I couldn’t get the map to load. Then my car died."

"That's some bad luck. Maybe you should look into getting a lucky rabbit's foot." He raises his eyebrows and chuckles.

"Ha ha," you respond humorlessly. "Look, the costume would've been a lot better with my friend. She's supposed to be a magician. Y'know like a magician pulls the white rabbit out of the hat."

"Right," he nods.

"Yeah, but it looks like I won't be making it tonight. I'm not too upset though. I'm not much of a party person."

"No?"

"No way, I'm a homebody. I hardly ever leave my house if I'm being honest. I work from home too so that keeps me pretty busy. Wow, sorry I didn’t mean to tell you my whole life story," you chuckle nervously.

"’S alright, I don’t mind. Your boyfriend doesn't take you out?" he asks.

"Boyfriend? No, I don't have a boyfriend." 

"Sorry, I just assumed. I mean, you're a pretty girl. Hard to believe you don't have someone to look after you." 

"Oh, thanks" a bashful blush rises up your cheeks. "Like I said, I don't get out much. Not many opportunities to meet people. Which is part of the reason my friend gets so mad at me. I've canceled on her the past three times she has asked me to hang out. She had to beg me to come tonight. I kind of feel bad though. She's probably going to think I bailed again."

"When we get back to my place you can use my phone to give her a call if you'd like," he offered. 

"Yeah, I probably should."

Looking out the windshield you can make out speckles of light ahead, breaking up the dense forest. John makes a final turn and you find yourself pulling up to a very nice cabin. Wood paneling lined the exterior framing several expansive windows which emit a warm yellow light behind the closed curtains. The glass panels stretch high to the sloped asymmetrical ceiling. The architecture looks straight out of the seventies. 

"Wow, this is your place?" you ask in amazement. "What do you do for work?"

"I work for the government," he states simply before turning off the truck and exiting. He walks around to your side and opens your door. He offers his hand to you which you shyly take as you hop down from the elevated cab. "Your hands are cold," he gives your hand a small squeeze fully enveloping it in his palm. "Let's get you warmed up inside."

He ushers you up the driveway, his hand now transitioned to your lower back. You can't deny the way his touch makes your stomach flip. He opens the door and you step into the cozy home. 

You are greeted by a vast living room. A long espresso colored leather sofa sits among matching chairs all facing towards a large stone fireplace. The space is washed in varying shades of warm browns and oranges. A beautiful thick rug lays across the glossy hardwood. 

"Sit, let me get you a drink. Would you like some tea, coffee, a beer?" 

"I'll have a coffee," with your confirmation he stepped through the living room to the connecting kitchen. Your eyes follow him as he disappears through the doorway. "Government job, huh? You must be very important." You step to one of the bookshelves that sit on either side of the fireplace. Scanning the many titles there. 

"I guess you could say that." He laughs. "Do you take cream and sugar?" 

"Yes, please." Your finger grazes the spines of the books. Many biographies and historical nonfiction among his collection sprinkled in with survival guides and warfare tactics.

"How about some Bailey's?"

"Sure,” you shrug. Maybe a little spiked coffee and make you relax a little.  

He reappears with two steaming mugs in each hand. He offers one to you which you happily accept. Wrapping both hands around the cup, allowing the hot drink to unfreeze your fingers. He holds his gaze while he takes a sip and then releases a gravelly groan in satisfaction. You follow suit taking a sip, feeling the warmth descend in your throat and radiate in your chest. 

"Not bad?" 

"No, not at all, thank you,” you smile sweetly. 

"How about a fire? Get you warmed up and then I'll go grab those tools, ay?" He doesn't allow you to answer before he sets his mug on the coffee table and kneels in front of the fireplace. 

You sit on the couch and watch while he makes quick work of getting the fire started. It's not long until he nurses the little flame into a roaring fire. He grabs a few fresh logs to throw on top before getting up and taking a seat next to you. 

"Feeling better?" He asks as grabs his drink once more and settles into the cushions, arm slung across the back of the couch behind you. 

"Much" With your cup now half empty you begin to feel the alcohol go straight to your head. You aren't surprised though. You haven't eaten all day in order to fit into this strangling outfit. 

"I like your costume, by the way. I don't think I said that earlier. Not sure if I would've stopped if you didn't look so cute" His hand reaches from behind you and flicks your artificial ears.

"Hey" You adjust the head piece back in place. "This was a lot of work to put together, I'll have you know." You attempt to convey your seriousness but can't help the giggle that escapes. 

"Oh, I can tell." His hand slips down from the back cushion to brush across your bare shoulder. The light touch makes your skin erupt in a flurry of goosebumps. "You're still pretty cold, bunny. Let me get you something warmer to put on." 

"I'm okay, really. I'll warm up." You take another long sip on your hot beverage. "I feel fine."

"I insist" He rises from the couch and politely holds a hand out for you. 

You are hesitant for a moment but seeing the persistence settled on his face you accept. "Alright," you relent.

He leads you down a dim corridor to the last room on the right. He pushes open the cracked door to reveal his neat bedroom. Very much resembling the rest of the house. A giant perfectly made bed sits in the center of the clean area. Makes sense considering the large man that sleeps in it. A lone lamp illuminates the room giving it a hazy appearance. Or maybe that's just your clouded mind. 

He steps past you towards his dresser and pulls open one of the drawers. He pulls out a large shirt then a pair of pajama pants and hands them to you. "Not sure how well these will fit but it'll be more comfortable, I'm sure"

"Too bad" You look down at the folded clothes in your hand. "Feels like a total waste of a costume."

His eyes scan down your body once more. "I don't think so" He walks past you towards the door. "I sure got a kick out of it" He smiles and turns to close the door on his way out. 

"John," you rush out before he goes. 

"Hm?"

"Can you, um-" You look over your shoulder at him. Still facing away from him. "Can you untie me?" gesturing to the lace up back to your corset.

"Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat. “I can do that" he takes measured steps towards you. As though a hunter may quietly stalk up to its prey. 

You look forward again and stand up a little straighter when his warm hands rest on your shoulders. They slowly slide down your back and onto the dense fabric. Fingers trailing over the layer of ribbon and boning. Finally he reaches the large bow at the base of your back. You feel the ribbon unwind to hang limply. Edges skimming the back of your thighs.

His strong fingers wedge themselves in the gaps between the laces. Tugging each intersection with meticulous movements so as not to throw you off balance. Your hands rush to press the front of your corset to your chest when you feel it begin to slip. At last you can take a full breath. 

Feeling his touch retreat after finishing the task you turn back towards him. Neck craning up to meet his eyes. The height difference was much more apparent from this close proximity. 

"Thank you,” your voice coming out just over a whisper.

"It's no trouble" He matches your hushed tone.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. Maybe it was the drink, or the fact that you were touch starved, perhaps even the fact that it was halloween but you felt bold. Bold enough to release your hands and allow the undone corset to fall to the ground below. 

Without a moment's hesitation John harshly grabs the back of your neck and smashes his mouth into yours as if thats the sign he’s been waiting for. Lips collide in a hot rush. His stong arms pull you flush against his broad frame. Deep groans rumble from his chest. 

Your sluggish movements make you struggle to keep up with his hectic pace. Your hands sliding up his neck to tug at his cropped hair. One particular harsh tug draws a growl from him. 

He walks you backwards across the room until the back of your tight clad legs meet the soft comforter. He releases his hold and you fall backwards onto the mattress. 

He towers over you. His chest heaves with each breath as he stares you down. Your stomach flutters, unsure if it is due to excitement or fear. You begin scoot backwards up the bed but as you make your way towards the pillows his hand encircles one of your ankles.

"Not so fast little, bunny," he tugs your leg harshly and pulls you back towards him. He doesn't waste time as he dips his fingers into your tiny ruffled shorts yanking them down in one swift motion. 

He climbs over you, wedging his thigh between your legs. His hand maneuvers around your lower back and behind your neck. He pulls you back into a heated kiss. 

You feel the pressure from his muscular thigh press against you. You unconsciously grind your hips into his leg while he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. He assists in your movements as he grips your hips, rocking you back and forth.

"That's it, pretty," he leans down to mumble in your ear. "I can feel you soaking through those little panties," then giving your earlobe a nip.

Moans slip from you with each movement. Rutting pathetically, unable to stop yourself as you near closer to your edge. He dips down to your neck expertly finding your sensitive points. Biting your pulse then soothing it with his tongue. The friction from his jeans rubs against your little cotton underwear and fishnets. 

"John, please," you whine, unsure of what you're asking. 

"Go ahead sweet girl, cum for me." His powerful grip digging into your waist. 

With his words of approval paired with his hot mouth moving along your throat, you begin to unwind. Tipping over the edge, your legs tightening around his own. The knot in your stomach finally snaps. Back arching into him and loud moans pouring from you. A rush of heat fills you and until you finally slump back into the bedding. 

John loosened his hold around you. A hand coming up to move hair away from your face. "You're a dirty little girl, aren't you? Humping my leg to get off. Nasty thing, you are." 

A blush of embarrassment rising across your already flushed face. The shame morphs back into lust as you feel a tightness reform in your stomach. 

John sits back on his knees and begins to unbutton his shirt. Your eyes can't help but to land on the massive bulge formed in his pants. A thick outline straining against the restricting denim. He finishes stripping off his shirt revealing his burly chest. You sit up to run your hands down his bare skin. Leaving kisses along the line of hair leading from his chest into his happy trail. 

Your hands skim lower to find the buckle of his belt. You make quick work unbuckling and unfastening of his jeans. Hurriedly yanking down the offending material just enough to give way to his tight boxers. Your mouth salivates at the sight of his hard cock straining through the thin material.

Before you can rip away the final layer he grabs your wrists. “Not so fast,” he chuckled. Gathering both your wrist into one of his hands easily he uses the other to swiftly pull his belt from it loops. He takes the belt and wraps it around your wrists, securing them tightly together. 

“Needy girl,” he mumbles. His rough palms traced down your arms then along your waist. “Taking whatever you want,” his fingers skim along the pattern of your fishnets. “It’s my turn now, bunny,” once he reaches your still clothed center. Finger grip the threads of your tights and rip them open. Completely tearing the flimsy strands to fully expose your panties. 

He slides his fingers across your sensitive clothed cunt making your hips thrust into him. “Oh, bunny. You’re soaked,” his eyes flick back up to meet yours. The black of his pupil now blown out almost completely consuming the previously blue iris. 

He takes your bound wrists and pulls them over his head. Your arms now wrapped around his neck, your bare chest flush against his. He pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips. Not bothered enough to fully undress he jerks down the waistband of his boxers. Allowing his thick cock to spring out. Fingers frantically pulling aside the drenched material of your panties, exposing your throbbing heat. 

He grinds his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his cock easily through your wet folds.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as his head rubs against your sensitive clit. “Please, fuck me” 

Needing no more prompting he pulls your hips back and lines himself up with your needy hole but not yet entering. “You want this?” He dips just the tip of his head in, teasing your dripping entrance. 

“Yes, please,” you beg, looking at him through your lashes. You desperately try to grind your hips down but he holds you in place. 

“What good manners you have,” he continues to tease and thrusts the tiniest movements, never fully entering. 

“John, I can’t wait anymore, please, just- please. I need it. I-” Your string of pitiful begging is interrupted when he finally yanks your hips down. His length fills you completely in one smooth thrust. Your eyes roll back at the sensation as he fills you to the hilt. 

He lets out a guttural moan once he is fully inside of you. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans. His head dropped in the crook of your neck, biting the soft skin there. Mustache and stubble scratching along your collarbone. You yelp at the pain of his bite but he doesn't relent. Your pussy tightens around him as his teeth sink into the tender flesh. 

His arms move from their grip on your hips and fully wrap around your back. He begins to thrust up into you. Not easing into the movement as he immediately drives his hips up at a brutal pace. As if he were unable to wait another second. 

Unable to grip into anything with your bound hands, you find purchase digging your nails into the leather of the belt. Your head tipping back limply as you can only take his cruel ministrations. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He grits out through his teeth, each word punctuated by his hips driving up into you. His cock pounds into your cervix making a flurry or stars burst behind your eyelids at every hit. “Is this what you’ve been needing? A good fucking?”

You mumble out a pathetic, “Mhm,” unable to fully process his words. His fingers dig into your shoulder and back. You are fully engulfed by this giant brute of a man. 

“I know you do. I knew from the moment I saw you. Looking so sweet on the side of the road.” He chuckles darkly. Continuing to hold you tight against him he leans forward until your back hits the comforter. Your legs lock around his back while he holds your hips in place. The new angle has him pounding into your sweet spot over and over. The friction of his hair rubbing onto your clit creates the building of renewed heat in your stomach.

“You gonna cum again, pretty? Let me see you do it,” his thrusts slow from the frantic pace to a slower harder stroke. His arms lay on either side of your head while he studies your features. Hard length easing out of you slow enough for you to feel each ridge and vein. Then jerking his hip harshly back in. 

Your head was feeling fuzzy. A drop of salvia trailed out of your lips and down your cheek. Your high was getting closer with each thrust. Eyelids fluttering shut as you feel the knot tighten in your stomach. So close to release. Your walls contract around him causing your legs to tighten, toes curling. 

“Hey,” John snaps harshly. When he receives no response he gives you a light smack on the cheek. Hard enough to make your eyes pop open in shock. “Look at me, pretty girl. I need to see those eyes,” his words sound warm but he grips your jaw in place with a stern hold.

Your eyes flutter while you struggle to keep them focused on him. Coming closer to the edge. “Come on, you can do it. Don’t make you give you another smack. I don’t want to hit you, pretty girl. Don’t make me” his tone dripping in condensation. “That’s it, give it to me. I wanna see you come undone, bunny.”

Then you snap. A series of shockwaves ravages your tired body. Shooting sparks of electricity race through your limbs. Your unfocused eyes stayed fixed on him throughout your climax. Your back arches high into his chest. Fingers ball up tight, desperate for something to grip. Your mouth drop open agape in a silent cry. Tear form in the corners of your eyes threatening to spill from the over stimulation. His harsh movements not granting you mercy in your fraile state.  

“God, I can feel you squeezing me. Oh, pretty girl, I'm gonna fill your sweet cunt,” he moans. Hips increase in pace as your tense muscle loosen in exhaustion. 

“Wait-” You murmur, hardly able to get your words out. Only a string of incoherent mumblings follow. Your brain is completely clouded. You know you can’t let him finish inside. “Please, no,” you whimper. “Can’t”  

“It’s gonna be okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’m gonna fill you up and maybe I’ll get you pregnant.” He says with a wicked smile. “You want to be my little house bunny? Fuck you until you get big and round. Walk around pregnant barefoot,”

Alarm bells ring in your ears but you aren’t able to fight against his strong hold. Your limbs remain weak. Useless to pull away from his embrace “Please” you whine, “I can’t”

“You can, bunny.” His thrusts grow erratic, losing their rhythm. “Gonna be such a pretty mommy,” His hand slipped underneath your head allowing thick fingers to tangle into your hair. His hands closing into a fist giving the strands a sharp tug. The other hand wanders down to your hips. Holding you firmly in place with a bruising grip. 

With one final thrust he releases a loud, guttural groan. Teeth bared in exertion as he reaches his own climax. Cock pulsing inside of you, draining his seed into your weeping womb. All you can do is tighten your jaw as you attempt to push, kick, scream, anything but you just lie there. The faintest gasp leaves you when you feel his warm load pool inside of you.  

“You made it so easy for me,” he laughs. “You just got in my truck. Walked into my house. Silly girl, you don’t even know me. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk to strangers.” 

He gives a few more gentle pumps before pulling out completely. Leaving your aching cunt feeling empty. He leans back and stares down, watching him cum drip out of your still quivering cunt. 

“You know, I put something in your drink. Took a little while to take, though. Got to you just in time I think. I was going to wait but you wanted it, didn’t you? I like seeing that dumb look in your eyes.” He grabs your jaw and moves your head back and forth while you stare blankly back at him. 

“Couldn’t let a little bunny like you get away, could I?

ﾒ𝟶

Taglist:

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[winterbuckwild]

Long distance truck driver Eddie passes through the small town of Hawkins every few weeks on a regular run, always stopping at the truck stop there to rest and go to the diner. He would have to make up the driving hours since he technically had loads left on the clock but he had to see his Angel.

Diner waiter Steve works at the truck stop all the hours that he can so that he can leave his parents house. Ever since they caught him with a boy behind the ice cream place he'd worked at before he was strictly monitored, forced to check in multiple times a day so they knew he wasn't getting up to anything "unnatural".

His friends had all left town for college, even his best friend who he spoke to less and less each passing week as she settled into a life without him and he felt about as alone as one person could ever feel.

Except for a day or two every couple of weeks when a certain truck rolls through. He gets to spend the whole night with Eddie, refilling his coffee and talking with the man he was pretty sure he had fallen in love with over the course of the last year. He lapped up the stories from the road that he knew were embellished and the other mans soft attention. He loved them as much as the dimpled grin and the purring cadence of his voice.

"If I asked you to run away with me next time, Stevie, would you?" He'd said one night, his normally animated face serious after Steve had done his last check in by phone.

So Steve was waiting, duffle bag of belongings by his feet outside the diner, his breath clouding up the winter air as he saw familiar headlights crest the hill next to the truck stop.

He grinned as the huge vehicle glided to a stop in front of him, a familiar mop of curly soft hair behind the wheel. His new home was small and it would be a tight squeeze but he didn't mind.

He wouldn't be alone again.

[3amfanfiction]

Darling and John Meet

Synopsis: Let's go back to the beginning and find out how Darling and John met. Did she go with her kidnapper willingly or was she snatched off the side of the road? 18+ smut, MDNI AN: This can be read as a standalone but technically takes place before this story. cw: Kidnapping, dubcon/noncon, spanking, threat of pain, hints of stockholm in the beginning section. Banner by @/cafekitsune

First || Previous

You weren't sure how long you'd been here. Time passed weirdly.

His name was John.

You were only allowed to call him Sir though, never John. Remembering how you were taught that lesson in the beginning made you swallow subconsciously, phantom aches plaguing your body even after all this time.

But at least it was something—that you knew he was a real person, with a real name, outside of this little house he kept you in. Something that reminded you there was a world outside even if you never got to see it again.

He was strict in the beginning when you were first brought to your new home. You didn't know the rules and he lost his patience frequently. It had been a while since you needed true correction from him, but it was always a looming threat.

He kept you healthy while you were here—made sure you ate and always snuck you a little treat with dinner if you had been good. He made sure you knew you were his Darling girl and how much he loved you. How perfect you were for him.

It was such a load of shit considering he wouldn't let you leave.

///

You thought your day couldn’t get any worse when you heard the thump thump thump of a flat tire as you were driving down the road. It was early evening and you hadn’t seen another vehicle for a while.

The sun was already starting to set despite the early hour, winter tightening its grip slowly if the chill in the air had anything to say about it. You shivered as you climbed out of the car, wrapping your too-thin jacket tighter as you crossed your arms trying to retain some heat. Walking towards the back you saw the thing you were dreading. A completely flat tire, not even enough air to drive on to get you to the next service station.

Of all the luck.

There was nothing for it, you guessed. It certainly wasn’t going to change itself.

Moving around to the trunk you pulled out the tire changing kit. You hadn’t ever had to change one before but surely it couldn’t be too difficult. You unscrew, take the tire off, put the new tire on, re-screw. Common sense would get you through this, you thought, trying to burgeon your spirits with forced cheer. It’s not going to be so bad, you’ll see.

With a forced pep in your step you lay the kit beside the tire, looking at what you had to work with. You were just reaching for the jack when you spied headlights coming down the road. Not wanting to accidentally be sideswiped, you stood up and moved to the back, stepping a few feet away from the road in order to give the other driver plenty of space.

You were surprised when the headlights slow, pulling in to park right behind you. You raised a hand to shield your eyes, squinting through the glare as you tried to see who was climbing out of the dark blue pickup.

“Need a hand?”

Oh, he was a handsome one.

A unique beard covered his face, emphasizing the allure of the man standing feet from you. A flannel shirt covered his bulky body with the sleeves folded up his forearms, showcasing a thick dusting of dark hair all the way down, under his watch to his square knuckles. His pants hugged his thighs in a way that had you swallowing before you pulled your eyes back up to his, warming at the mirth showing in his blue gaze.

“I don’t suppose you know how to change a tire?” you asked with an apologetic smile. It seemed your day was turning around.

///

Sitting in his truck, you were thankful for the warm air blowing strongly from the vents. When John started the truck one of the first things he did was point all the vents firmly towards your side of the cab and turn the fan on high.

You were appreciative that he was so thoughtful, especially after the mess with your tire.

John hissed in pain, yanking his hand back quickly from where it had smacked into the tire, the wrench snapping off the bolt and clattering to the ground. He pulled his hand back to look and you saw the blood welling from his scraped knuckles.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don’t think this tire is coming off with what we have here. You’re going to have to get into town and have someone come out to change it.” He gave a little frown in disappointment at not being able to help you out.

When you tried to thank him and let him go on his way he promptly shut down that conversation and convinced you to let him take you into town. “It wouldn’t be right to let such a pretty woman sit out on the side of the road at night,” he’d said.

He was startling persuasive because it was only a short while later that saw you sat in his truck, happily bundled in his coat and on your way down the road.

///

You first realized there was a problem when he missed the turn-off for the town.

“That sign said we were supposed to take a right back there,” you said, turning to look back at the road you’d just passed, thinking John had missed it.

“We can’t go in the front way. The storms that came through last week washed out the road and it’s still impassible. We’ll need to go past it and access it from the other direction.”

“I hadn’t realized it had stormed so badly over here,” surprised, you turned to look at him.

You didn’t notice his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel, the creaking leather disguised under the rumble of the road, “Do you think I’m lying to you, Darling?” quiet, with a hint of censure to be careful in how you responded.

“No! That’s not it at all, I promise,” you reassured, startled by his change in demeanor. John had been nothing but unfailingly polite so far so this was quite the shock. You supposed everyone had their triggers and being called a liar was certainly a common one. It wasn’t surprising John got prickly when you implied he was lying, especially after he went out of his way to help you when he didn’t need to. “I was only thinking of how bad it must have been, how worried everyone was. I hope no one was hurt,” you appease. Thankfully he accepted your pseudo-apology.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little peach, worrying about them,” he allowed, seemingly willing to move past your faux pas. “I don’t think anyone was seriously hurt Darling, just a bit of structural damage along with the road. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

And that was all it took.

By the time you realized he wasn’t taking a back way into town it was too late. You were far from town and your car, alone with a man who dwarfed you and your only way out would include throwing yourself from a fast-moving vehicle.

As you started to cry, struggling to wrap your mind around what was happening, he reached over and placed a warm palm high on your thigh. You couldn’t help your flinch away from him, pressing against the door as far as you could get.

“Well,” he sighed, as if disappointed in how you’d reacted and pulled his hand back to his own side, “we’ll work on that.”

What was going to happen to you?

///

You thought about fighting when the truck finally stopped. John climbed out and walked around to your side, opening your door just to block the exit with his body, one forearm propped up against the hood while he loomed over where you were sitting. You wondered if he was purposefully emphasizing his size to dissuade you from causing trouble.

It was working if he was.

You were still quietly crying when you looked up at him, frowning when he simply cooed at you before reaching in with one meaty paw to wipe away the tears, “Now now, there’s no reason for you to be upset Darling, nothing’s happened yet, has it?”

That didn’t bode well for you and did nothing but inspire more tears. With a soft hum he reached in to help you out, ignoring your trembling as he held your hand in his.

“Please don’t do this,” you tried again, even though you knew it was hopeless. You had tried every way possible to convince him to let you out on the side of the road during your trip with no luck. “Please. I’m not what you want, please let me go.” Your chin wobbled as you tried to keep from breaking into gasping sobs.

“Oh Darling, you’re perfect. I don’t ever want to hear that from your mouth again. Now let’s go. It’s time to get inside, I don’t want you out in the cold any longer.”

With his final say on the matter you shakily climb out of the truck, reluctant but complacent, dropping your head to stare at the ground through watery vision.

You had never been much of a fighter. You tried. You tried to be tough and to fight against the things that upset you but at the end of the day you would always be the first to fold, unable to dig your heels in the way other people seemed to do with ease. It didn’t look like your fawn response was going to get you out of your mess this time.

He held your hand tightly as he pulled you up the steps towards the house, ignoring your sniffling. You shuffled along beside him in terror-filled silence. Stepping onto the porch he turned to look at you, hand letting go of yours to grip you firmly by the back of the neck. A wave of fear skittered down your spine like an electric shock, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin as you shuddered involuntarily.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you Darling?” he asked with his chin tilted down, allowing a steady gaze to bore into your soul. “As long as you’re good, you’ll have a good life. Listen and obey and I’ll take care of you, you’ll never want for anything ever again. But if you fight me, you will learn very quickly who is in charge.”

Ominous.

You couldn’t do anything other than give a shaky nod which he didn’t seem to appreciate.

“When I speak to you I expect an answer.”

As he looked into your being with cold eyes you wet your lips before answering, “Yes,” but a tight squeeze of the back of your neck let you know what he wanted. An honorific. You knew he wanted one, you just . . . couldn’t do it. If this was your only rebellion then at least it was a rebellion. Something that said ‘I dissent. I do not want this,’ as minor of a stance it was. But it was something of your own.

“Yes, John.”

Pain.

It flooded your mind, muffling your ears and blackening your vision. Your brain rattled around in your skull, every bounce causing a new shockwave of hurt, of distress. You couldn’t think, you could only gasp.

You raised a hand to your cheek where you had been backhanded, in shock. Your jaw was dropped and you looked at John with wide eyes, unable to understand what had just happened. He was looking at you with a disappointed expression.

“I don’t like hurting you for little things like this, Darling,” he chided, “but you force my hand when you decide to be difficult.” Sighing as if you were a dog that had gotten into something he wasn’t supposed to, he continued, “Let’s try this again, shall we? Are you going to be good for me? Or do you need me to discipline you first before you behave?”

“I’ll be good,” you reassured quickly, not wanting another strike. Looking into his eyes you realized he was not going to let you get away without a title. “—sir. I’ll be good, sir.”

He beamed. “There’s my sweet girl. I knew you were perfect. So smart and so sweet for me.” Pulling you in, he ignored your squirming to press a kiss against the cheek he had just struck, his bristles felt shocking against the newly sensitive skin.

Still smiling, he led you into the house, tucking a guiding hand low on your back underneath his jacket you still wore, pinky trailing a touch too low to be fully chaste.

The house wasn’t what you were expecting. You thought it would be dark, winding hallways connected to closed-door rooms, curtains blocking out any view of outside, trash and debris cluttering up the floors and counters.

Instead it looked distressingly normal.

As you walked in, the space opened up. A comfortable living room sat to one side while an open kitchen sat to the other. You could see a handful of doors leading off the two rooms with a hallway tucked into the back wall. Large windows would let in the light come morning and while it was slightly bare, the house looked comfortably lived in.

Not at all what you thought a kidnapper’s house would look like.

John took his coat from you to hang up, “I’ll give you the tour tomorrow but I’m exhausted after today. Let’s go to bed, hm?”

You froze, every cell in your body locking into place as your heart took up residence in the pit of your stomach. Bed. You knew how this was about to go and for once your body kicked itself out of fawn and straight into flight. The problem was you hadn’t taken two steps before a fist was in your hair, dragging you backwards until your back collided with John’s chest. He shifted his grip around to the front of your throat to control you, the other slipping around your waist, keeping you pinned against him.

You weren’t a small girl by any means. You ate well and didn’t listen to the old biddies who insisted fat led to death. You were solid. That didn’t seem to concern John as he physically picked you up, ignored your flailing feet and moved you towards the living room.

You reached up and tried to pry his fingers off your throat but were unsuccessful. He wasn’t squeezing, which was shocking and relieving in turn, more just holding. You still wanted his hand gone from such a fragile area.

With wide steps he cleared the distance to the living room easily, taking a seat on the couch and holding you in his lap, chest to back. The tears which you thought were gone were back with a vengeance, running down your face in rivulets as you sobbed in his hold.

You felt him give a deep sigh against your back.

“I didn’t want to have to do this so soon, but I can’t have you thinking you can try and run away like that. There’s no one around for miles, Darling. Where would you go?” he asked the last almost to himself as if he couldn’t understand your thought process.

Letting go of your throat, his hand dove to your waist, making fast work of the buttons holding your pants up. Then, in a move too quick for your brain to understand he had you shifted onto your front over his lap, your pants and panties pulled down to your thighs, practically cupping your cheeks.

You yelped and reached your hands back to cover your ass but he gathered them easily to pin behind your back.

The first sharp crack made you scream.

The next handful of smacks didn’t lag, keeping a punishing pace if not quite as merciless as the initial one. You squealed, screamed and kicked to no avail. He simply pinned you more firmly and continued to lay his palm into your cheeks.

You didn’t know how long it was until something broke in your mind and you finally went limp, no longer fighting, just gasping great, heaving sobs with a sharp cry echoing out of your mouth with every connection. As snot, tears, and drool leaked into the couch fabric you missed the, there we go, almost there now, from above you.

You didn’t even jerk when he paused, switching from open handed hits to roughly squeezing your heated skin, dragging rough callouses over it in a facsimile of comfort.

“We’ll go easy this time, Darling, since it’s the first time you’ve misbehaved. I won’t accept you endangering yourself and you would die in the woods or the mountains before ever finding help. You’re not to try and leave again, do you understand me?”

You couldn’t answer through the sobs still wracking your body. He didn’t like this and gave a sharp little pat in the same spot as the first strike. When you yelped, he repeated.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes—yes I understand,” you gasped out, eager for this to be over with. When he froze and you felt his thighs tense underneath you, you corrected yourself quickly, “I understand, Sir.”

His muscles softened as he continued, “Good. Now I said this one would be easy and I’m a man of my word. It’ll be 10 for trying to leave the house and 10 for fighting back instead of accepting your punishment.

Twenty more?!

“Wait!” you sobbed, distraught at the thought of your punishment (your torture?) continuing. “I thought you said easy, you’ve already passed that.”

“Darling girl,” he cooed sweetly, “those were to get you in the right headspace to accept your punishment, they weren’t the punishment itself. It’ll be 20 swats and you’ll be counting them for me.”

You almost vomited on the couch from fear.

Giving you no more time to wind yourself up, he started.

The first whip of his hand was equal to the one back at the beginning, although this time you withheld your scream admirably. When it made contact with your heated, throbbing skin you almost lost your breath, the pain was so sharp. It radiated out, up into your lower back and down into your thighs while sending a ringing thrum echoing through your head. The pain was all you could think about until he tapped two fingers softly on the spot he’d just struck.

With a wet, gasping breath you punched out a One, before he could decide he needed to start over.

He alternated between softer and firm cracks, moving as he saw fit from the crease where your thighs met the swell of your backside to nearly your lower back. You accidentally kicked out on ten when he spread your cheeks, aiming a hit at the soft skin which had been protected so far with where it pressed up against the other cheek. His fingers caught your asshole causing an electric current to shoot down your legs, making them jerk without your approval. He paused for a moment and you prayed he wasn’t going to start over or increase your punishment. He must have decided you weren’t trying to fight back because he continued on, waiting for your Ten, before giving you number eleven.

By the time he finished you were a sweating, sobbing mess sprawled across his lap with no care for anything beyond your burning skin. You must have looked quite the sight because he hummed at you in sympathetic adoration and gathered you back up into his lap, ignoring your yelp as your sensitive, impact-warmed skin made contact with the rough material of his pants. Tucking you into him he began showering you with praise.

“There we go, that’s my sweetheart. You did so well for me, taking your punishment like a big girl. I’m so proud, Darling.” He pressed a kiss to your sweaty temple and hugged you firmly, “It’s all done now, all over. I’m not upset anymore.”

You couldn’t do anything but sit there and breathe, tears slowly drying on your face as you calmed down. You were completely limp where you sat on his lap, your head lolled back onto his shoulder, too weak to even care about what face you were making.

He tilted his chin to look down at you, bristly beard rubbing against your face. With a fond smile he reached for your jaw and tried to tilt your mouth to his.

You couldn’t help the breathless, No, you let out as you turned your chin, pulling it from his grasp.

He paused and looked at you coldly, his blue eyes glacial before he gave a forced chuckle, “All right. If you don’t want to kiss me, I won’t make you. We’ll save that for when you ask prettily for it, hmm?”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, could only look at him as he looked at you, watching the micro-expressions cross his face. He looked so normal. If the past couple of hours hadn’t happened you never would have expected this from him. You wondered if it was his handsomeness that allowed him to hide in plain sight. If an uglier person would have been under suspicion long before now and he would have been sitting in a jail cell as a result. What did that distinction imply of society?

You had caught your breath when you felt his hand making its way between your thighs, the tears starting up anew at what was next.

“My Darling still needs her reward though, doesn’t she?” he murmured warmly into your ear. “Good girls get rewarded and you did wonderfully for me,” as his fingers reached the apex of your thighs, swirling in the slick your body had produced in response to the previous pain.

You keened shamefully when he brought those slick fingers up to your clit, giving a soft circular stroke to the sensitive bud, “Please don’t, I don’t want this.”

“Don’t you? That’s not what she’s telling me.” He moved down again to press two fingers deeply into your cunt. The wet squelch was sordid as his fingers sunk all the way to his thick knuckles with little resistance. You couldn’t help the gasp as his palm made contact with your clit, giving you something to buck against when he curled and pressed inside of you. “Yeah, she’s eager for me,” he laughed almost meanly before giving you a rough stroke, grinding his palm over your sensitive clit at the same time.

“Wait! Wait, I don’t—” your voice broke on an Ah! as he found a sensitive spot right inside. With a smirk he honed in on it, focusing relentlessly as he built you higher and higher, whispering endlessly in your ear.

Fuck, but you’re perfect for me, Darling. Listen to those pretty sounds coming from your lips. I’m so happy I found you. Gonna keep you forever, you and me. Keep you in my home, keep you on my cock, on my fingers, on my tongue. The only thing you’ll have to worry about is when your next orgasm is, nothing else will belong in that pretty little head. You’ll let me do all the thinking for you pet, won’t you? Yes, look at that dumb expression, you like turning that brain off, don’t you? It’s okay, I’ll take care of you, I’m here now. You don’t ever have to be alone again.

With a final caress he sent you careening over the edge, tumbling end over end as the pleasure crested and carried you on a wave of endorphins. Heat traveled up the backs of your thighs through the tightened muscles of your abdomen before crawling its way up your chest. Your back arched violently, only held in place by the arm strung across your hips.

After far too short a time you came back to your body. The first thing you noticed was John petting your mons, stroking the hair repeatedly in the same direction as if attempting to make it lay flat. When he noticed you were back with him, his hand slowed before stilling.

“There’s my pretty girl. I thought I lost you for a minute.”

When you don’t respond he continues.

“Are you going to kick up a fuss if I tell you it’s bedtime again?”

You wanted to. You desperately wanted to. You just couldn’t. It was like every strong emotion had been rung out of you and you were nothing but an empty shell, waiting to be filled back up.

Even still, you couldn’t tell him you’d go quietly, choosing instead to stay silent, letting him take from that what he would.

With a rumbling hum he stood you up on trembling legs, pulling your pants back up over your hips but leaving them unbuttoned. Wrapping an arm around your waist he pulled you into his side before guiding you to the hallway leading further into the house.

By the time you reached the primary bedroom you were crashing. The trembling was becoming worse and you weren’t able to take in any external stimuli. You couldn’t even tell what his bedroom looked like other than the fact there was a bed against one wall.

Tugging you with him, he brought you to the bed and stripped off your clothes with quick efficiency, ignoring your weak, swatting hands and mumbled pleas until you were naked before him—one arm crossed over your chest while the other attempted to hide your cunt. You stood there trembling, watching him fearfully as he walked over to a set of drawers.

Opening a drawer, he rifled around for a few moments, apparently looking for the perfect shirt. He gave a soft Ah ha! when he found it, moving back towards you. Gently pulling the t-shirt over your head he treated you as if you were a small child, softly guiding each arm through and fixing the hem so it fell correctly around your thighs.

Directing you to the bed, he had you lay on your stomach. You heard the pop of a cap behind you before a cooling sensation began covering your skin, his rough hands working the lotion in.  

You wondered at your current responses. It was as if you could see your emotions but you couldn’t feel them. They had become something to pick apart, to analyze from the safety of the other side of the glass where they couldn’t hurt you. You could see where you were panicking about John touching you so close to your center but you couldn’t feel the actual fear. It was something you were observing but not experiencing.

You were only existing. In this present moment.

You observed as he began to massage the plump tissue after rubbing a gentle layer of lotion into the skin. The pain was shocking for a split moment before you felt the relief, as if stretching out a charley horse. A low monotone hum was pressed into the mattress as you fought against the sound unsuccessfully.

Ignoring his responding chuckle was simply good common sense.

You were a limp, dozing puddle by the time he was finished, uninterested in anything past sleep. Your breath didn’t even hitch as he connected your wrist to the headboard with a rope, turning you on your side to curl up behind you, one arm under your pillow and the other wrapped around your waist, tucked under your borrowed shirt to hold the fat of your stomach.

“Sleep, Darling. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And you did.

///

You knew exactly where you were as soon as you opened your eyes the next morning. You weren’t granted the relief of even a few moments of confusion to bask in before reality cruelly stepped in.

John’s hand had migrated in his sleep and he now cupped your breast, cradling it in his warm palm, rucking your t-shirt up high. His knee was tucked between yours and you could feel his erection pushing into your bare backside where he was firmly pressed against you, only his boxers separating the two of you.

You laid there quietly, not wanting to disturb this subtle peace with whatever horrors the day was about to bring. You could pretend his hand wasn’t even there when he was still. Letting your mind wander, the time passed steadily until the sunlight filled the room and John stirred behind you.

You knew he was awake when he kissed the back of your neck, pressing his lips against your skin and holding for a moment before pulling away, “Good morning, Darling,” he rasped in a sleep-roughened voice.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, frozen where you lay.

He chuckled as he flexed his hand, realizing where it was placed. With a slight shift he moved to softly pinch and roll your nipple, tugging it every so often. You ignored the shameful heat it was building in your core with every pinch.

Pressing more kisses into the back of your neck, he began to murmur, “Perfect, to be waking up with you in my arms. You feel so god damned amazing,” he squeezed you to him firmly, “I’m never going to give this up.”

What did you say to that? What could you say to that? You had a fine line to walk, being stubborn enough to hold onto your identity while yielding enough so you wouldn’t be ground down to your basest parts. You had no doubt he would enjoy working you down to the bone before building you back up in whatever fashion he saw fit.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to need a response this morning as he continued to kiss at your nape, massaging the handful of you he still held.  

You froze when his hand eventually started to travel lower, pausing to knead at the fat of your stomach for a moment before continuing down. He pulled your top leg up, giving him more room to work while ignoring your faint trembling. Once there was adequate space he cupped your cunt, holding it in his large hand. His fingers lowered to trace the damp seam with a soft caress, a gentle stroke which did more to tease than to relieve.

As he continued to brush barely there strokes against your cunt, from your lips to your clit, you were fighting with yourself to stay still and not buck into his hand. It almost ticked with how soft he was touching you and you craved and dreaded a firmer stroke in equal measure.

You didn’t want to give in to him though. It was clear what he was doing, teasing you, taunting you with what you could have if you were only bold enough to take it. If you gave enough ground to take the pleasure he offered while giving up your morals.

You tried. You really did.

At the first soft twitch of your hips he groaned a, There we go Darling, take what you need, into the slope of your neck where he had buried his face. The hot breath and his press of teeth sent a shock through your body, causing your hips to buck slightly harder.

In moments you were riding his hand, finally being touched how you needed. Soft, little panting breaths were escaping you, the occasional strangled sound escaping your throat. It was fine. You were still in control.

He encouraged your rocking with the press of his hips, taking his own pleasure from you as you worked, panting hot wet breaths into your ear, neck and shoulder as he nibbled and sucked on the skin, working to pull blood to the surface.

When you came, you did so with a low groan, your mouth clamped shut in an attempt to deny him the sound of your satisfaction. Your legs jerked out with your orgasm, back arching and chin tilting up, unwittingly giving him more room to attack your neck.

As you came down you found yourself falling limp, letting him work you through the last echoes of your orgasm with skilled fingers. You were still limp when he rolled you over onto your back, hovering over you for such an intense moment you thought he was going to break his word about not kissing you and take one anyway.

His eyes practically glowed where they were focused on your, a blue so bright it was haunting. He studied your face, no artifice in the early morning light. When he pulled back slightly you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, cowed by his presence, however unwillingly.

You thought that you were done. You had made it through the horrors and indignities of the morning and you could move on. You were proven wrong when he began to shuffle down your body, pushing your borrowed shirt up above your breasts.

One arm was still raised, attached to the headboard but you used to the other to attempt to shield yourself from him.

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to your side, giving you a firm look which said you wouldn’t like the consequences if you moved it to hide yourself again.

Leaning down he took your nipple into his mouth, groaning softly at your stifled inhale at the sensation. With skillful glee he focused eagerly on your chest, switching breasts as he saw fit, never leaving a nipple unattended for long.

Your breasts were heavy and aching by the time he was satisfied, nipples raw from the suction and delicate skin peppered with bristle burn where he hadn’t been cautious of his beard. He leaned back slightly to take them in, pleased with his results.

It was when he began moving further down that you panicked.

“No, no John, please don—” you cut off with a screamed yelp as he pinched a portion of flesh firmly between his teeth. For a moment you almost thought he was going to bite it off with how hard he was sinking his teeth into you. There were flecks of blood in his teeth when he eventually pulled back.

“Rule two: you will address me as Sir when you speak to me. Anything else will result in escalating corrections,” he met your eyes with a steady gaze. “Do you understand me?”

You couldn’t do it. You wanted to fight, to dig your heels in, but you just couldn’t, you were too scared, it hurt too badly.

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered, mind racing at what an escalation might look like.

Taking you at face value he continued working his way down, murmuring into your skin, “I’m going to be tasting this cunt,” he lowered himself between your thighs, spread wide by the breadth of his shoulders, “your only job is to lay there and let me eat.”

He dove face-first into your folds, not being shy about his groans of delight at your smell and taste. Pressing his nose to the crease where your thigh met your pelvis, you heard him take a deep inhale of the space which had trapped sweat and smell since your last shower. When he dragged his tongue along the hair covered skin you twitched, surprised at how sensitive the area was to his ministrations.

Biting your tongue to keep from making any noises, you struggled to lay still when he moved to your center, nosing apart your lips to press a firm kiss to your entrance before licking a wide stripe up the slit, collecting all your slick from your first orgasm.

As hard as you tried you couldn’t fight the buck of your hips when he reached your clit and switched from a broad lick to sucking on it with pursed lips. The grunt that slipped out was quickly swallowed back. You couldn’t do much but you could at least deny him this, deny him the sounds of your gratification.

You felt him smile where he was pressed against you before he went to work, eating you out with mind-numbing focus and intensity. It was as if he was pulling every bit of tension from your body and reworking it into a coil which was twisting tighter and tighter with each pass of his tongue. You felt heat start to build in the back of your thighs, toes curling in pleasure as you fought against bringing your free hand down to grip his hair, to hold him where you wanted him.

If he had teased you slightly longer you think you would have anyways.

When you came it was deafening. Your ears only registered the rush of blood, your eyes – the sparks lighting off in your brain. Your throat was still vibrating with your yell when you came back to yourself, panting as you stared at the ceiling in shock.

He pulled off of you with a pop, ignoring your overstimulated flinch as he pressed one more kittenish kiss to your clit before moving back up. You had drenched his beard to the point it was matted down around his mouth and chin, a shiny sheen on his nose.

When he got back up level with your face, he looked you deeply in the eyes as if trying to impart ancient wisdom, “This is your life now, Darling. The sooner you realize who’s in charge, the smoother everything is going to go.”

Reaching up he untied your wrist that was attached to the headboard, “Now come on, it’s time for breakfast and I’m going to watch you finger yourself while I’m getting it ready.”

|||

Story Repository || Main Repository

[daisyblog]

I Have

Our Story Masterlist Summary: One Direction play ‘Never Have I Ever’ on The Ellen Show, and the questions target Harry.

Based on this request.

Harry, Niall, Louis and Liam sat on the white sofa as the audience watched from their seats, and Ellen sat on the single chair next to Harry.

Alright, we’re back with One Direction…your fans think they know everything about you… well do they?”. Ellen introduces the boys as they prepare to play a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’.

Ellen quickly explained the games and how the boys needed to answer the questions using their paddles.

“Never have I ever wrote a song about another band members sister”.

All eyes went to Harry as the audience laughed and Louis couldn’t help but smile. Harry cheekily held up his paddle showing ‘I Have Never’ to match the other three.

After the audience calls Harry’s name, Ellen is quick to remind them of the rules as she looked directly at him. “We’re not going to play if you’re going to lie”. Before she takes it upon herself to turn Harry’s paddle around.

”So who’s Olivia about?”. Niall nudged his shoulder into Harry’s.

Whilst Louis remained silent, Liam added to the teasing. “Oh and 18…Little Black Dress-“.

“Next question!”. Harry interrupted eager to move on to the next one.

“Never have I ever gotten a tattoo that I regret”.

Louis and Niall quickly changed their paddles to ‘I Have Never’, whilst Harry and Liam honestly answered that they had. Ellen questioned Liam about what one and there was small discussion on how it was more painful to get tattoos removed.

“Never have I ever made out with another band members sister”.

The audience were fast to let out a loud ‘ooo’ at the question aimed at Harry once again.

Harry pouted his lips slights and shook his head playfully trying to hold back a smile. “What is this game?”.

Louis could only smirk knowing YN was probably enjoying watching this from behind the set.

Niall showed Harry’s paddle for him with a big emphasis. “I can answer this for him…everyday!”.

“Thats enough of that! My poor ears!”. Louis pretended to cover them and leaning back in his seat.

“My poor eyes more like!”. Niall fired back as Harry closed his eyes in defeat.

“Oh young love”. Ellen swooned trying to embarrass him further.

“Never have I ever used one of my bandmates' toothbrush without telling them”.

Harry’s head turned quickly when Louis and Niall held their paddles showing ‘I Have’, a concerned look was written all over it. “Who’s?”.

“I used yours once!”. Niall’s infectious laughed filled their ears as Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

“When?”. Harry needed to know.

Niall shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. “Ages ago”.

Ellen didn’t miss the opportunity to add an unnecessary comment. “So does this mean you’ve technically kissed YN too?”.

Louis put his head in his lap wondering when this would end. Harry’s jaw locked as his protective side over took him and Niall felt like a deer in the headlights.

“Ew no! She’s like my sister…no just no!”.

“Never have I ever dated someone that another band member dated”.

“That would be awkward”. Harry let out the unfiltered comment.

All four boys were quick to agree that they hadn’t and made a joke about how funny it would be if they found out they had through a game.

“Never have I ever gone skinny dipping in a hotel pool”.

The thought of the three band members going skinny dipping drove the audience wild. Liam was taken back at how he was the only one who hadn’t.

“When did you’s go skinny dipping without me?”. Liam questioned them with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, all them went with out!”. Ellen added.

“It was the same time!”. Harry was eager to add, trying to avoid being questioned about when he went, knowing it was with YN.

“Never have I ever hooked up with a fan”.

The last band member they all expected to show ‘I Have’ on their paddle was Harry.

“Wait man…what?”. Liam couldn’t hide his shocked expression.

Louis was wondering if it was a joke or if he’d accidentally turned the paddle the wrong way.

“Harry?”. Ellen’s voice held a questioning tone to it, wanting to under if it was true.

Harry smirked before explaining. “Oh c’mon…YN’s more of a fan than a fan!”. The audience laughed as some of the fans knew YN was definitely a huge fan girl.

Relief washed over the other boys faces, worried at where the answer was going.

“She actually is”. Niall agreed and stopped nervously biting his nails.

“That’s a relief!”. Louis pretended to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“You got me worried there man”. Liam relax let back into his seat.

“Never have I ever sent a naughty text to the wrong person”.

Louis explained the feeling when it happens and it’s been sent before there’s anything you can do, no matter how many times you look at it, or throw your phone. The audience finding his explanation hilarious.

Niall let out a loud chuckle, Harry couldn’t help but glance at him with a questioning look.

“Niall?”. Ellen was amused as how Niall was still laughing by himself. “Everything okay?”.

In between laughing, Niall managed to stutter out why he was chuckling. “I’ve received a naughty text that was meant for Harry!”.

The memory flooding back to Harry at when YN accidentally sent Niall the message instead of him.

“Oh please share!”. Ellen encouraged from the edge of her seat.

Once again Louis covered his ears. “No no no!”.

“Don’t you dare Horan!”. Harry playfully warned but a tad of seriousness in his tone.

Niall laughed out loud as he glanced to his right to see Louis still covering his ears, to Harry giving him a warning look.

“She said-“.

Harry quickly placed his hand over Niall’s mouth to stop the reveal the audience was eager to hear.

“And that’s One Direction everyone!”. Ellen ended to the show knowing the possible consequences if she encouraged it further.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994

[hawkinsmethlab]

Part Two

Read on AO3

The first time they kiss, Eddie is technically dead. Or, does CPR even count? Steve’s tempted to say no, because that’s not how kissing works. (He would know the best out of any of them, right?) The cracking of ribs under his hands and the taste of blood in his mouth, how desperately he’s blowing air into too-heavy lungs and listening to one of his best friends cry so hard he’s dry heaving.

But he doesn’t stop, not until there’s a pulse, however weak.

Eddie dies twice on the way to the hospital. They tell Steve later that he died again when he was on the operating table and nearly didn’t get him back.

Steve runs himself ragged over the next month, between volunteering at the community center, donating blood and making sandwiches, helping to clear the streets of debris, patrolling for Upside Down shenanigans and playing chauffeur for his gang of kids who aren’t acting so much like kids these days. He visits Max and Eddie as often as he can. Max still hasn’t woken up and nobody’s sure when that might be, but he gets to have his first conversation with Eddie about a month later.

He’s only been awake for a week, and still can’t do much of anything but talk, and even that’s hit or miss most days. Even when he can kind of hold a conversation, he gets tired too fast for it to mean much, but everyone Steve talks to is upbeat about his recovery.

He hadn’t been planning on actually sitting with him, there’s still so much to do, but Wayne had asked him to hang out while he ran to grab himself some lunch. Who is he to deny that man anything, especially something so easy as watching a half-comatose idiot?

Eddie wakes up after about a minute of Steve being there. When he notices him, Eddie’s eyes go glazed and he’s got a dopey smile.

“They’ve got you on the good stuff, huh?” Steve says.

Eddie nods, but his muscles are loose so it’s more of a roll. “Oh, yeah. I’d make a fortune off the stuff if I could get my hands on it. But, shh, don’t tell. I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay, man, whatever you say. My lips are sealed or whatever.”

“Mmm.” Eddie squints at him then, frowns until he’s pouting. “Sorry you had to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lay one on me,” he says, eyes closed now. “Bet you hated it. Bet it tasted awful.”

Steve rolls his eyes, fights back the smile his lips are trying to pull up into. “Appreciate the concern. Lucky for you, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t tasted before. And I didn’t. Hate it.”

Eddie’s eyes open so fast Steve worries they’re gonna fly out of his skull. “You what?”

“I was saving your life, dude,” Steve says. Duh. “Hard to hate something like that. I mean, maybe if it hadn’t worked then it might be a different story but--”

“Oh. Right.” Eddie relaxes back into his pillow. He’s trying to keep his eyes open, on Steve, but it’s a fight he isn’t going to win. He’s like a kid trying to stay up past his bedtime, and this time Steve can’t force down the smile in time.

“Just go to sleep,” he tells him. “Your uncle will be back soon.”

“Been sleepin’ forever, I’m sick of it. Keep havin’ weird dreams.”

“...Yeah, I’ve been there.”

Silence settles between them, broken by beeps of machinery, distant footsteps and announcements from the hallway. Eddie’s eyes are closed again, his brow still creased. Steve thinks he might have actually fallen back asleep until he sees his lips move.

Steve scoots a little closer. “Are you trying to say something?”

Eddie sniffs, make the face like he’s pouting again. “I said, I’mma make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?”

“Bad first kiss.” Eddie shakes his head. “I can do better. Wanna do-over.”

Steve freezes like a deer in headlights. Like he has a gun to his head. Like he just heard the front door open and he knows it’s his parents coming home. He knows it’s the drugs talking and that Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying, not really. At the end of the day he probably isn’t going to remember this conversation.

Eddie is in a hospital bed, hooked up to about a dozen different machines looking like he’s been hit by a train, his skin so pale that Steve can make out every vein, every bruise and cut and stitch. Long fingernails and peeling scabs that crawl up his neck like a fungus. He’s drooling a bit from the side of his mouth and his eyes are still crusty with sleep and he’s got a smattering of acne that’s cropped up on his forehead and nose, along the edge of his chin. His bangs are pinned back because they’re so greasy.

Steve’s heart races anyway.

There’s a correct answer here, the one he’s been raised with, the one beaten into him. The instinctual urge to brush it off as a joke (ha, good one, man) to take it as an insult (remember who you’re talking to, Munson) to ignore it altogether (just go back to sleep).

Then there’s the incorrect answer.

“Alright, Munson,” he says, softly, terrified. “Once you’re all better, you can show me what I missed out on.”

Through the exhaustion and the pain meds, Eddie grins. “Watch out, Harrington. I’m about to rock your world.”

Steve smiles. He doesn’t fight it this time. “Can’t wait.”

[purpleprincessonfyre]

Okay so apparently it is not common knowledge that technically Ethan and I met outside the Tower...it's complicated. I knew who he was I just had never really...well you'll see. So here is the story of how we met. You are welcome @ask-missparker

Ethane - Who Could Stay?

Ship: Ethane aka Ethan Lensherr @gcthvile and Liane Felton

Mentions: Mia Parker @jackiequick, Rochelle Romanoff-Felton and Cole Lensherr

Setting: 2012, Battle of New York

IB: The Archer by Taylor Swift and Avengers (2012)

After only a few months of training, some straight talking from agents and a couple pep talks from her new friends, Liane Felton finally felt like she had a handle on this heroine thing. Granted she hadn't exactly planned on fighting an army of aliens in New York City while a trickster God taunted them with his power and menace but sometimes thems the breaks. Liane watched as the fliers started darting off towards an alleyway and looked around for anyone following them.

Everyone else according to the comms channel seemed to be otherwise engaged so she took it upon herself to deal with them. How hard could it be? She'd only seen three, maybe five heading that way. She ran towards the alleyway and her eyes glowed purple, preparing to incinerate her enemies and grinned. Easy peasy. But as she started the number of chitauri was suddenly growing quite rapidly by the minute. Soon she was almost entirely surrounded.

"Easy they come, easy they go,

I jump from the train, I ride off alone,

I never grew up, its getting so old,

Help me hold onto you."

Her fear was starting to overcome her anger and that fury fire in her belly no longer felt very strong. She tapped her comms very swiftly.

"Ummmmm help? Anyone? I um I can't do this..."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, Felton." Came a second voice as someone from up above swooped down, his eyes glowing with green energy, a smirk of slight superiority. Liane knew she recognised him but couldn't quite place where she knew him from.

"Look there was not this many when I entered the alley."

"Obviously. But if you're gonna put a target on your back, might I suggest you actually follow through?"

Liane scoffed but knew he was right. She still didn't quite have a handle on her abilities despite her best efforts. Ever since joining this team and moving into the Sandbox her anger had started to subside which had given her the impression she had gotten the hang of things. When in reality she just had less to be angry about.

"Darkside, I search for your darkside,

But what if I'm all right, right, right here?

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face,

Then I hate my reflection, for years and years."

"You shouldn't be afraid to ask for help, none of us signed up for a war."

"I know that, trust me."

"Why can't you use your fire?"

"Cause...I'm not angry. I'm scared."

"Huh. Oh I'm Ethan by the way, we've met before but I doubt you've even acknowledged my existence yet."

Ethan! Of course, that's who she was talking to.

"Yeah I know who you are."

"Really? Cause you had a deer in the headlights look like I have never seen when I landed." He blasted a few aliens that were approaching her effortlessly. He smiled at her, tossing her a gun.

"You know how to use one of these?"

"I'm a Felton. Yes, obviously."

"Great. Use it."

Liane scowled, she wasn't a fan of being shown up by this guy. Her eyes started to change colour again as she started shooting. Ethen flanked her, attacking aliens at her back while she covered the ones approaching her. Then she ran out of ammo.

"Oh...I did not check if that was fully loaded."

"Seriously!"

"Hey not my fault you have trouble performing under pressure."

"You shut up!"

"Sorry, sorry. You could probably try screaming at them? That might piss them off."

"You absolute mother-"

"I've been the archer

I've been the prey

Screaming who could ever leave me darling?

But who could stay?

(I see right through me, I see right through me)"

But before she could finish her sentence, Ethan grabbed her from behind, lifting her up into the air and holding out her hands to the remaining chitauri, incinerating them all instantly as her eyes blazed and furious lavender flames hurtled from out of her hands in quick succession. The whole alleyway was ablaze, the sounds of chitauri screaming as the flames destroyed their bodies. Ethan smiled.

"Nice one, turns out there is an off and on switch for your powers."

"You did that on purpose!"

"You. Are welcome. I figured out your trigger and you killed some aliens. Thank me later."

"I-"

He wasn't wrong. She had managed to channel her rage into a burst of flame and taken out the enemy very easily. She looked down at her hands that were now scarred with purple swirling patterns from her fire and sighed as the fire left her eyes and the street was no longer ablaze. She could control it. It just took a little extra thinking time. Ethan held her tight and flew away from the carnage and helped her land on a rooftop with him. There was a long pause as she got her bearings.

"All the king's horses, all the king's men

Couldn't put me together again

'Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you."

"Thank you, Ethan."

"No worries. Now we know what pushes your buttons, we just need to figure out if there's a healthier way to trigger your fire."

"But not right now?"

"Correct. Right now we need you to take all that unchecked rage and use it to burn up a few dozen aliens apiece. You got that?"

"Just for the record, I did remember you."

"Okay now that's a lie."

"Why?"

"Because the last time I spoke to you, you called me Cole. That's my brothers name."

"Oh..."

"It's okay. I know we're all just serfs and peasants to you."

"How dare-"

"Hey!" Came over the comms, a very frustrated sounding Agent Parker from back at SHIELD. "If you two are quite down with your Lovers Quarrel, the team need a hand capturing Loki!"

"I'm sorry what?"

"No no that is not-"

"How could you even-"

"That's just-"

"You heard me. Save the flirting for later."

Liane sighed and looked at Ethan. Then she looked off into the distance and saw the fray awaiting them.

"You go high, I'll stay low?"

"Sounds like a plan, Felton." He grinned and picked her up carefully and flew back towards the STARK Tower and dropped her off carefully before heading upwards to try and catch Loki. Liane landed beside Rochelle who was furiously slicing at aliens with her laser blades.

"And just where have you been?"

"Got sidetracked. Won't happen again."

"Good cause we're getting our asses handed to us. You mind?"

"Sure thing."

Liane's eyes turned purple as she started blasting through the aliens with her fire, back in the fight. Maybe it wasn't so bad being in control. And maybe, just maybe, it was fun working as a team. Her eye caught Ethan's as they were both fighting and she swore she saw him wink at her as they took at chitauri and the battle wore on. It wasn't Liane's worst meet cute to say the least. Ah shit. She was catching feelings. It had been ten whole minutes. And that made her a bit angry. At least her fire was doing its job again. Shit.

"You could stay

You could stay

You...

Combat, I'm ready for combat..."

There! That's the true story. Weirdest part is that you were there Mia but I guess it didn't occur to you that that was the spark that made us fall in love...

Tagging: @askstevella @ask-missparker @ask-starrk @therealdaydreamstark @thechoooooosenone @wizzzardofoz @finlayholmes @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @cherrysft @meiramel @missstrawbs2001

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 1: Midnight

Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! I’ll be writing fics based on their July 30-Day Challenge all this month (if I can!); I’ll also be posting them to AO3 here!

Fittingly, I wrote most of this around/past midnight—my sleep schedule is so messed up these days that I’m most productive between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM, so that’s probably when I’ll be getting most of these stories posted. So if you see me posting, for instance, my fic for Day 1 on what’s technically July 2, well…that’s what I have to say for myself.

This fic was also (minorly) influenced by @graysongraysoff’s first fic for Beboptober 2020, “3, 2, 1…Let’s Jam!”

Also, enjoy this rejected first line: “There are many benefits to being a marine biologist bounty hunter….”

As the clock ticked past midnight, Spike and Jet sat on neighboring barstools, keeping a sharp lookout for the bounty head who was rumored to pass through this bar tonight—or from a message from Faye indicating that the bounty head had visited the bar where she was stationed, instead. There had been no sign of the guy for a while, and the only messages from Faye just consisted of her complaints of boredom. (The bar was on a relatively remote asteroid, after all.) The anticipation and the silence—other than the occasional attempt at conversation from Jet or the crack of peanut shells (no drinks for them tonight, or at least minimal drinks; they needed to focus)—gave Spike a lot of time to think about the reasons he’d become a bounty hunter in the first place. The reasons he’d chosen this offbeat, freelance profession to fill this part of his life—such as it was.

Sure, the paychecks were irregular, often scanty, and—more often than the crew would like—nonexistent. And he wasn’t one to pretend that the money didn’t matter, that he was purely in the bounty-hunting business for the love of the job or whatever. And sure, one could go on and on about catching bad guys, keeping them off the streets, bringing justice to the world—and Spike supposed those were advantages too, though he preferred to leave the philosophizing to Jet. And they definitely weren’t the reason he’d picked up the work. Anyway, on nights like these—when he and Jet and Faye were in their element, and he was sure a fat stack of Woolongs was on their way—Spike preferred to focus on the more practical benefits of the job.

Spike knew he’d chafe in some corporate 9-to-5 job, or in retail or customer service, or in any position with set hours and fake smiles and a supervisor breathing down his neck. He’d struggle and squirm as if wearing an ill-fitting jacket. And he couldn’t imagine having to say things like “actionable items” or “let’s circle back” with a straight face. He often griped and complained about the woes of bounty hunting, but he was feeling unusually optimistic tonight, and he had to admit, the freedom that this job afforded him suited him perfectly.

Take the work hours, for instance. Twelve A.M. and he was wide awake, raring for a catch; in twelve hours he’d probably be passed out on the Bebop’s couch. And the job was so unpredictable that in another twelve hours, he might still be asleep. This was the kind of schedule that suited him; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And to be honest, midnight wasn’t a bad time to be up and working. The sky outside the bar was pitch-black, but the streets hummed with life. As Spike looked around, he saw flickering neon signs, sporadic streetlights, headlights of cars and spacecrafts, and the occasional tiny flame of a lighter filling the darkness. And while he and Jet were quiet, the bar was replete with lively conversation, raucous laughter, and the sounds of games of pool, foosball, and darts, often accompanied by wild cheering. These were technically Spike’s work hours. This bar was sort of his office. The gun resting securely at his side served as his office supplies. What boring corporate job would let him say that?

For another thing, he didn’t have to deal with any stupid dress codes; he never had to memorize the meanings of words like “business casual” or wear the same polo shirt with the same embroidered logo of the same megacorporation as everyone else. He did business dressed up in a suit and tie because he wanted to, and, in his opinion, it looked stylish as hell. (As bonuses, it also allowed him a lot of freedom of movement and was very comfortable, as was evident from the few times Ed had stolen and wrapped herself in it, gleefully flapping the ends of the sleeves.)

Perhaps the best aspect of the job, though, was that every day of it was different. It brought the Bebop crew in contact with such a wide variety of criminals and other strange characters—from senile old chessmasters, to vindictive bombers using teddy bears as their weapons, to homicidal genetically-engineered clowns—that no two people they encountered were ever the same. And if Spike decided a bounty head was too boring, or too much of a small fry, he didn’t have a boss forcing him to take it. (More often, he had an empty bank account and a disapproving look from Jet forcing him to take it—but that was neither here nor there.) Also, the work took Spike and his crewmates pretty much everywhere in the Solar System. He was constantly on the move, never staying in any one place for long. It suited his restless spirit perfectly—and made sure that nothing, or no one, from his past would be able to catch up to him.

“Spike.” Jet’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “That’s the guy.”

Spike glanced over to where Jet was gesturing, and sure enough, the muscular, grizzled man entering the bar, with a suspiciously gun-shaped bulge under his trenchcoat, matched the description in the criminal records and the picture on Big Shot exactly.

With a grin, Spike rested his hand on his own gun. “Let’s get him.”

Sometimes, when he was in a more brooding mood than tonight, he’d reflect on how his life never felt real. How it felt more like a constant dream he could never wake up from. The ephemeral, meandering nature of bounty-hunting, with its strange and amorphous structure, felt dreamlike sometimes, too. And for someone on the outskirts of society, seeking autonomy—well, he guessed that applied to his whole group of crewmates, in one way or another—it was perfect. As much as he liked to complain about the job, it fit him better than he’d like to admit.

And here he was now, in the dead of night in a random bar on an even more random asteroid, easily dodging the bounty head’s blows and landing his own—without making too much of a scene that attracted the rest of the bar. The fight was over quickly enough that the man didn’t even need to pull out his gun. Just the way Spike liked it. As he threw the final punch that rendered the man unconscious and Jet tied him up, he was completely comfortable. Relaxed. In his element.

There were worse ways to spend a dream.

[dootiexcupcake]

𝚈𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚊𝚠 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚖

Seventeen and stray kids law firm AU (minor monstaX chankyun)

Warnings: male feminization (I think?) [minghao is called a “headmistress” and Hyunjin is affectionately called a “bimbo”], abuse of power, misrepresentation of a work environment

Pairings: none but it’s sorta hinted that Joshua and Jeonghan sleep with their female clients to get what they want

Here is an unfinished headcanon of Seventeen and Stray Kids law firm au I was working on in February but lost motivation for 🤣👏🏾

Senior Partners: Joshua and Jeonghan

Office Manager: Zu Minghao

Computer Department Manager (IT): Wonwoo

Associates: I.M, DK, Wen Junhui,

Law Clerk: Boo Seungkwan, Kim Mingyu

Legal Assistant: Lee Jihoon

Legal Secretary: Chwe Vernon

Receptionist: Hwang Hyunjin

Data Entry Clerk: Lee Chan

꧁———————————————꧂

Joshua Hong and Yoon Jeonghan

it is IMPERATIVE that you say their names together because you truly cannot have one without the other

Both graduated at the top of their law class and bar exams

Now they run a huge law firm with the best of the best working under them

Yes I said working “under” them because these two have quite the ego to them…

All those cases they’ve won, the money they make, the connections they have..it deeefinitely went to their heads. Just a little bit

THEY ARE THE ONLY MEN ALLOWED TO BE COCKY AND A LITTLE MEAN‼️

Joshua, such an approachable man ~ he offers you a bottle of water as you both take a seat at his desk

You smile at him and feel the nervous coil in your stomach begin to die down when his warm gaze sets over you

You go over your case in detail and finish off with a sigh, happy to get everything off your chest so you can get this big misunderstanding taken care of

“I know you did it.” He deadpans. His small smile still etched on his face

Your stomach drops and so does your smile

“D-did what?”

“I may be pretty but I’m not stupid, lady.” He chuckles

“It’s Y/N”

“Look, I would love to sit here and play this game with you but, this is a pretty big homicide case you so kindly dropped in my lap. So let’s cut the crap.”

Your pretty sure you look like a deer in headlights now. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ You think to yourself. How did he know that the story you came up with you “accidentally killing your husband” was fabricated?

And to think you were a pretty good liar too…

“Don’t get me wrong, you came to the perfect place! I can get you off and make it look like your neighbor did it…but,“ he trails off.

“But what? I can pay for it! I-I have money!”

“Oh sweetheart…I’ve got plenty of it. I’m gonna need something more than that ~”

꧁————————————꧂

Minghao

v v strong headmistress vibes from him. Down to the pointed stares and the glasses sitting low on his nose

Is constantly bumping heads with Hyunjin who barely does any work and only gossips with Seungkwan

Because of his long time friendship with Josh and Hannie, he is essentially in charge of hiring and firing people in the office

But with that said, everyone knows he has a soft spot for Hyunjin

So the bimbo can stay ♥︎

Total clean freak

While cleaning duty technically isn’t his job requirement, he can’t STAND to work in a filthy office and the cleaning crew doesn’t do much of a good job in his opinion

Walking into his office is more intimidating than walking into Joshua or Jeonghans office tbh

Though he does have a bad habit of nagging, it takes A LOT to screw up so bad that he demands you to come up and see him

10/10 would not recommend getting degraded and yelled at by Minghao (…or maybe I would)

꧁————————————꧂

Wonwoo

eyyy I.T guy WOOOOOO

So laid back and chill like,,,this dude literally powers every IMPORTANT PERSONAL MACHINE THAT CAN MAKE OR BREAK A CASE AND HAS STOPPED A DEVASTATING CYBER ATTACK ON THEIR OFFICE SYSTEMS AND IS JUST LIKE

“Yeah 🧍🏻‍♂️”

He’s also insanely smart too

But because of his nonchalant/aloof attitude, many other companies and firms turned him down thinking he was some inexperienced college kid that would only cause problems

Buuut it’s a good thing Minghao has the ability to literally look into peoples souls and see past their surface because boy oh boy dID HE SMELL GENIUS A MILE AWAY

Minghao put in a good word for him is what I’m trying to say…

Being in the computer room all day is mind numbingly boring, so the best way possible to waste time is by watching k-dramas

Should he be doing that on office hours? Absolutely not.

Is he going to stop? NOoOoOoo mA’aM noOoOoO Ma’Am

Bonus points for the days when Dino comes in and they can binge watch Secretary Kim together

On those special slow days at the office, Wonwoo likes to wrangle the gang™️ together (Vernon, Seungkwan, Dino, and Mingyu) and play a quick round of Mario party with them before Hao comes and shuts it all down

Has affectionately given Minghao the nickname “Holly Blue”

iykyk

Overall, cool older brother

꧁————————————꧂

Associates

Chankyun

ooooh ok LETS GO

Chankyun takes himself waaaay too seriously lol

He’s in his Miles Edgeworth era 🤪

Comes in wearing expensive suits and shoes

Hair slicked back

Cold attitude

You name it

…this dude literally just got out of college

Even tho he’s a bit stuck up, he is actually a pretty competent attorney

It’s his dream to be able to run his own law firm and be an equity partner with DK

Dokyeom

DK

DK is genuinely a pretty cool dude in and out of the office

Seeing how cut throat the law business is, many people are surprised when DK

—————-

And that’s it. That is legit how far I got LOOOOOOOL yeah but y’all ain’t miss anything I promise 💀. Who knows, I might complete this headcanon one day. I did a little research on law firm terminology just to write this lil thing so I might as well put it to some good use yeah? But this is it for now 🤷🏾‍♀️

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[spicybonelesschickenfeet]

Heartbeat 1/3

Summary; you had know Aaron hotchner since university, and ever since the first day of knowing him you had the biggest, fattest, most overwhelming crush on the guy. But for some reason he never knew, or even noticed. You had eventually learned to push the feelings away trying to figure out your own problems, focusing on yourself. Then, years later when you joined the bau after getting transferred... Things seemed to go downhill after reuniting with Aaron. But there's a bit of a romance twinkling between you and one of your new coworkers.

Aaron hotchner x nb!reader (past romance)

Spencer Reid x nb!reader (SLIGHT romance)

bau x nb!reader (platonic)

WARNINGS; you do ALMOST die at the end :P it's angst. There's canon levels of violence but may or may not be a little more violent, there's mention of unrequited love, you don't kill yourself but the unsub almost kills you , this also may Incudes a few adult rated scenes and language.

(Now a psa, the reader aka you in this story is a bit fem presenting and gets along better with the gorls. There's mentions of typically "girl" related things like makeup n stuff. Just a psa)

___________

You had been transferred from the DEA of Virginia to the BAU of Virginia. Your old unit cheif thought you had a lot more potential in profiling than you did with taking down drug cartels, which you appreciated to the point you brought your unit cheif a parting gift. (Even if she tried to talk you out of it.) So now you're standing in the building, walking to the offices. You had absolutely no clue if they knew you were coming today, or if your late. You haven't a clue about anything.

So you spoke to the first friendly face you saw, it was an energetic woman in full pastels and a matching pair of glasses.

"Hey, do you know where The unit cheif might be? I'm the new transfer and I just have a few questions.." you ask and the womans eyes lit up.

"Oh my goodness! you must be (F/Name) (L/name)!! Oh from what they described I thought you'd be scary but your adorable- sorry, my naeid Penelope Garcia, in the resident technical analyst, it's niceto meet you, and hotch won't be here for anothr thirty minutes" she spoke quickly, you smiled at her warm welcome. "Don't apologize for talking, it's nice to meet you Penelope.. what do you do as a technical analyst?" You asked, curious as you weren't ever the brightest on this part of the FBI. Penelope seems to brighten up and the two of you talk for the next thirty minutes.

When the two of you stop talking it wasn't on your own terms, but rather a guy with glasses and a mess of brown hair walked up.

"Hey Gracia? Do you know where Gideon is?" He asked as you looked at him little too intensely. Which clearly caught his attention. "I'm afraid I dont know- oh! Reid this is our new coworker!" Penelope smiled and you stook your hand out. "my name's

(F/Name) (L/Name), it's nice to meet you" you spoke shakily. He seemed to notice your nervousness and smiled shaking your hand. "Spencer Reid, its nice to meet you as well, where were you transferred from?"

"The DEA, I used to work with drug cartels and stuff... My old unit cheif thought I'd do better here than there." You explained, you clearly seemed upset about being transferred but not opposed to it. Before Spencer or Penelope could speak Aaron hotchner walked into the room. And your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

The two of you stood there like deer's in the headlights. Both remembering the argument that ended the friendship you both had.

"Your the new transfer? (L/Name)?" He asked and you simply nodded. "Yes, I'm the new transfer from the DEA." You respond swiftly. Unaware of the confusion your two friendly coworkers had.

"Well then. Welcome to the bau, come to my office I do have to speak with you on a few things." He said with an odd look, a look you knew all to well as his discomfort. It was such a rare expression that not one of his coworkers could pinpoint his emotions in those few moments.

You gave a nod before bidding a temporary farewell to Penelope and Spencer.

___________

You were now sitting in Aaron hotchner's office quietly as he sat there at a loss for words. It felt like forever, which was only about two minutes s you spoke up.

"Soo... How have you been?" You say cringing slightly and he looks up from his desk with a squinting look of 'what the fuck?'. "fine, I am fine. Look, did you get transferred here to mess with me? If so that's very unprofessional-"

You interrupted him. "no, I did not get transferred to the bau to mess with you or bring up the past. My cheif at the DEA thought I had more potential in profiling. She also saw that my coworkers generally made me uncomfortable. So no I didn't get transferred here for that. Also I had no idea that YOU'RE the unit cheif. However I enjoyed taking down drug cartel and trafficking. And I feel I really excelled at my job." You spoke with a confidence that puzzled Hotch. He hadn't ever seen you so confident in yourself, but then again he hadn't spoken to you in going on seven years. Not after that night.

"I see, well from what your old cheif sent, I can see your very good at your job, better than your other coworkers. I'm sure you'll fit right in with h rest of the bau... It's nice to see you again (L/Name)" he looked to the thick file he had received from your old cheif.

"Thank you, It's nice to see you again as well Hotch" you smiled slightly.

___________

When you got back out to the main office you met the others, Morgan, Gideon, Reid (again), Garcia ( yet again), JJ, Elle, and you had already talked to Hotch.

JJ and elle seemed very excited to meet you, being excited to have someone join the bau who wasn't a guy nor a girl. You were the middle ground, so naturally they seemed to have many questions for you.

"So you just dress however you feel that day?" Elle asked and you nodded. "mhm! Like today I was feeling a little more on the masculine side so I wore this!" Your outfit did look masculine, and you pulled it off very well.

"Thats really cool" JJ smiled and you thanked her.

Then you felt a pat on your shoulder, turning you aw your old unit cheif. You let out a small gasp before you hugged the woman who chuckled lightly and hugged you back.

"I just wanted to bring you your coffee cup, I know how much you love it." She smiled handing you to yellow snoopy themed coffee cup. Which you smiled happily at. "thank you Gomez- Naomi.. thank you Naomi" you corrected yourself. You remembered that before you left your cheif had told you th next time she saw you to just call her Naomi. The gray haired woman just smiled and ruffled your hair. "it's nothing if I get to see my favorite kid" she teased and you gave a look of betrayal. "Miss Ma'am. I am only three years younger than you! But thank you for bringing me my mug..." You say a little saddened, it reminded you a lot of the DEA, it was nice being there and fun at times even if the team there didn't particularly see you as apart of their little family there. Even if Naomi made sure you were always included and was your only real friend there.

"Alright, well I've got to go, I'm taking Gabriella to the doctors. You should stop by sometime kid. Your always welcome in the Gomez household." She smiled giving you a tight hug before she headed off.

"Well that was something" Elle said and your face tured beet red. "oh my god- I'm sorry I- she's my old unit cheif.." you stammered, Elle just gave a small laugh and "it's fine (L/Name), I understand you were probably close. Especially since she invited you to her home. You guys must've super close" Elle smiled and you nodded.

"Yeah, we are."

-end of chapter one-

This chapter is pretty short, also I didn't edit this like at all sorry-

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

1.9 creating life-long grudges

warnings : large-scale sword fight, mention of injuries, ares is also angry, cussing, mention of guns (that aren't actually guns)

word count : 3.7k

1.9 Thank the Gods for All Those Years of Sword Training Because... Yikes 

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but thankfully they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. Or why my backpack had been completely dry (yes, I was going to compromise everything just so nothing of mine would get ruined. Call me shallow, I don't care). They probably thought our boat had capsized or something. Anyway, there was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls. They didn't have time to worry about us. Or about me being me, which I was pretty stoked about. 

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even mine. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, I'd silently prayed they wouldn't pick me out of the water and find me perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So, I'd willed myself to get soaked. Sure enough, my usual waterproof magic had abandoned me, sparing only my Louis backpack. 

Luke was barefoot, having given his shoes to Grover to cover up his hooves after his shoes disappeared somewhere in the ocean. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. I felt as if I'd just come back from the dead— which I guess I technically had. My backpack was heavy with Zeus's master bolt. My heart was even heavier from seeing my mother. It felt like I had abandoned her, even though she'd have been pissed at me if I'd chosen her over one of my friends or myself.

"I don't believe it," Luke said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," I interrupted him. "A strategy worthy of Athena. You get it right? You know what happened?"

"I know," he grimaced, eyes dropping to the ground. "I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"

"Allie..." Luke murmured, reaching out to touch my shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry..."

"The prophecy was right," I said instead, dusting off my wet skirt uselessly. "'You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades' helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's daughter. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it." Luke pulled me into a hug and it took everything in me to keep from crying.

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want a war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, staring grimly down the beach. "Gee, let me think about that for a fucking moment."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," I accused, rage welling up in my chest. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power, that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? One of your kids? Clarisse was at the winter solstice, but she would never have done something like that. She's a good person. I suppose she must get it from her mother's side."

My statement seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

From his pocket, he took out a ski cap, the kind that bank robbers wear, and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"You fucking bastard!" I cried furiously. I had never been so pissed off in my life, both with Ares and myself. I had played right into his trap.

"But this war will tear the world apart!" Luke protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. The bloodier the better, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," I crossed my arms in front of my chest to keep myself from leaping at him with my bare hands. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like those swords you got, kid. They always return to you, right?"

I wasn't sure how Ares knew about that, but I guess that a god of war had to make it his business to know about weapons.

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way, no big loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I... yeah... with that kind of firepower..."

He held the trance for one second... two seconds...

I exchanged confused and nervous looks with Luke who was gripping his own sword pommel tensely.

Ares' expression cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught red-handed, holding the thing."

"You're lying," I declared. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" He snarled as smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, making it seem as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," I guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn them over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let them go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

I hesitated at that. Then I gave him a half-smile that said 'I won.' "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk. "Let's get back to the problem at hand, sugar. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hard-headed idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp Half-Blood. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at me with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

I stepped into the surf, taking strength from the ocean swirling around my feet. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter... an uneasiness. "You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from Echidna. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Try me," I retorted, grabbing my swords and falling into the familiar attack/defense position I had first been taught, then drilled into my head until it was second nature.

"Angel," Luke muttered.

"Stay back," I replied softly. "I got this, I promise."

"No direct involvement," Ares drawled, the heat from his eyes melting his sunglasses. "Sorry, sugar. You're not at my level."

"Allie, run!" Luke cried, just as the giant boar charged.

But I was done running from monsters. Or Hades, or Ares, or anybody. As the boar rushed me, I sidestepped and slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at my feet, while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

"Wave!" I shouted.

Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

I turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" I asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares' face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—"

"A dolphin," I suggested scornfully. "Or a seahorse? Yeah, I'm fucking sure. That'd save you from getting your godly ass whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you can go fuck yourself."

Ares sneered and swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

I showed him my swords.

"That's cool, gorgeous," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat morphed into a large, two-handed sword. It was probably the size of me with a hilt shaped like a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Angel," Luke begged. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"He's a coward," I told him, lifting my head determinedly.

He swallowed. "Take this, at least. For luck." With that, he took off his camp necklace and tied it around my neck. He looked like he wanted to do something else, then thought better of it.

"Thanks. I'll win this. Don't worry about me."

"And take this," Grover added. He handed me a flattened tin can that he had probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover... I don't know what to say."

He patted me on the shoulder. I stuffed the tin can in my back pocket.

"Are you all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, honey. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

A smaller ego, I thought in a snarky tone of voice, but I said nothing. I kept my feet in the surf, backing into the water up to my ankles, accepting the strength it gave me.

Ares charged at me and cleaved downward at my head, but I wasn't there.

My body thought for me. The water seemed to push me into the air and I catapulted over him, slashing as I came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again and I was forced to jump onto dry land. I tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what I wanted. He out-maneuvered me, pressing so hard I had to put all my concentration on not getting sliced into pieces. I kept backing away from the surf. I couldn't find any openings to attack. His sword had a reach several feet longer than Riptide and Shaker.

Get in close, Luke had told me once, back in our sword class. When you've got the shorter blade, get in close.

I stepped inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked Riptide out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I recognized the feeling of my ribs breaking, at least four of them, as I went airborne. I flew twenty, maybe thirty feet. I would have broken my back if I hadn't crashed into the soft sand of a dune.

"Allie!" Luke yelled in warning. "Cops!"

I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had just been hit with a battering ram, but I managed to get to my feet.

I couldn't look away from Ares for fear he'd slice me in half, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Is that Allie Jackson? What the heck...?"

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup. We need to get her out of there."

I rolled to one side as Ares' blade slashed the sand. I lunged desperately for my sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares' face, only for my blade to be deflected again.

Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it. Damn him to Tartarus for being a god. Cheaters in every sense of the word. 

I stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares smirked. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

My senses were working overtime. I now understood what the others had told me about ADHD keeping you alive in battle. I was wide awake, noticing every little detail.

I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike. At the same time, I was aware of Luke and Grover, thirty feet to my left. I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing.

Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above. And more sirens of course.

I stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped my sleeve and grazed my forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns. Set them on the ground. Now!"

What guns?

When I next looked at Ares's weapon, it seemed to be flickering; sometimes it looked like a shotgun, sometimes the true form of a sword. I didn't know what the mortals were seeing in my hands, but I was pretty sure it wasn't something that'd work in my favor. 

Ares turned to glare at our spectators, which gave me a moment to breathe. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on us.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Begone."

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

"You son of a bitch," I hissed at him.

Ares roared with laughter, his sides shaking. "Now, sugar, it's time to add you to this barbecue."

He slashed. I somehow managed to deflect his blade. Then I got close enough to strike and tried to fake him out with a feint, but my blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting me in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after me.

I felt the comforting rhythm of the sea, the waves growing larger as the tide rolled in, and suddenly I had an idea. Little waves, I thought. And the water behind me seemed to recede. I was holding back the tide by sheer force of will, but tension was building, like carbonation behind a cork. And it was hard. I wouldn't be able to hold this for long.

Ares came toward, grinning confidently, as if he had already won the battle. I lowered my blades, as if I were too exhausted to go on. I wasn't quite done yet though.

Wait for it, I instructed the sea. The pressure now was almost lifting me off my feet, I was going through a cycle of getting worn out and being reinvigorated again. Ares raised his sword. That was when I released the tide and jumped, rocketing straight over Ares on a wave. Thank the gods I knew how to surf.

A six-foot wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. I landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward his head, as I'd done before. He turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was too disoriented, and he didn't anticipate the trick. I changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide and Shaker straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heels.

The roar that followed the wound made Hades' earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide.

Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boots. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded. I felt a surge of incredulousness that he was reacting so melodramatically to such tiny wounds. I had most of my ribs broken, risking a lung puncture and I was still fighting. I hadn't even 'umphed'. Ares would never make it as a demigod. Then again, those ribs were healed now because of the water, so I did have that going for me. Still, though. Talk about dramatic. 

He limped toward me, muttering ancient Greek curses.

Something stopped him.

It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. I hadn't felt like that in a long, long time.

Then, thank Olympus, the horrible darkness lifted.

Ares looked stunned.

Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Luke and Grover stood on the beach in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he warned me. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blades in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Astraea Jackson. Beware."

"You did that to your own damn self. Don't think challenging someone you can't beat is a good idea." I also think mocking Ares was a good idea, but I was too pissed to think about that. 

His body began to glow.

"Allie!" Luke shouted. "Don't watch!"

I turned away as Ares revealed his true immortal form. I somehow knew that if I looked, I would disintegrate into ashes. After what seemed like an eternity, the light died.

When I looked back Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades' bronze helm of darkness. I picked it up and walked toward my friends.

But before I got there, I heard the flapping of leathery wings. The three Furies with lace hats and fiery whips drifted down from the sky and landed in front of me.

The middle Fury, the one who had been Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have me for supper, but had decided I might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So... it truly was not you?"

I tossed her the helmet roughly, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," I instructed her curtly. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war. Also, tell him I told him I wasn't in New York and maybe he should listen to me more often if this is going to be a common occurrence."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Allie Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again..."

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

I joined Grover and Luke, who were staring at me in amazement.

"Allie..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly..."

"Terrifying," said Luke.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

I didn't feel terrified. I certainly didn't feel cool. I was tired and sore and completely drained of energy. Despite that, I managed to give Luke his necklace back and Grover his tin can, which I knew he'd want to eat.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" I asked.

They both nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said hopefully.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing me, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

I looked at Luke, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

I reclaimed the damn backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," I said heavily. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Luke protested, "Unless we—"

"Fly," I finished. Have I ever mentioned just how much I hate my life? In case I haven't, let me do so right now. I really, really hate my life.

He stared flatly at me. "Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do again, lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on, let's go die a fiery, hopefully quick, death."

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

[fic-dumpster]

Deer in headlights | Short stories: Scary dogs

Bonten x Reader | Canon Divergent | 1288 words

Warnings: Idk, nothing really, smoking(?) technically Takeomi canonically speaking is a chimney, Shirtless Kakucho, Based on that tiktok trend (kind of a request(?) sorry if I got it wrong I don’t use that app). Can be read as a stand alone fic. Kind reminder to pls pls read my rules.

You’ve seen a video from TikTok, and you wanted to try it yourself. How could you not? If anyone sees Mikey and the rest approaching like a pack of wolves, anybody will turn the other way around. And even if you weren't going to post the video, at least you'd save it so that you could laugh about it.

So today, after walking out of the building where they held their weekly meetings, you went on ahead of them. You usually would walk beside Kakucho or cling to Rindo, but none said anything. They probably thought you were in a rush to leave the place.

Before you pressed record on your phone, you peered over your shoulder to see what they were doing and if none suspected. And just like you expected, they were all doing their thing.

Mikey and Kokonoi, talking to each other; Ran and Rindo were amidst a heated discussion; Kakucho was on his phone typing, Takeomi looking for his lighter, Mochizuki walking far behind everyone; and... Hold on. Where is Sanzu? He was there a second ago.

“Sweet-cheeks! Why are you plotting?” Jumping a little, you glanced at your side as you felt his body pressed at your back and his head rested on your shoulder.

“Oh... I was... Hmmm...” lying would not work; Sanzu would see it right away. So you went with the truth. It's Sanzu; he would do it. “I wanna make a video. Could you walk behind me? In a very intimidating way,” you tried to make a mean face to illustrate your idea, which resulted in Sanzu just laughing in your face.

Nevertheless, he accepted. “Sure, sure. Want me to take the gun out too?” He said, making finger guns in your direction.

You shook your head in disapproval. It would be too obvious that you two were scheming something if Sanzu went all joker right now. “Just give that look you gave the guy checking me out the other day, please,” you nonchalantly said.

“I did not do such thing; Believe it or not, it was Kokonoi who scared the bastard off,” Sanzu spoke as he made his way behind you.

You made a mental note to ask Kokonoi about that later. Anyway, phone ready, you pressed record. You began recording yourself smiling when the soft music began to play, then lifted your phone when it changed so that the camera could capture everyone in the background.

Oh, you forgot a minor detail. The music. Hell broke loose. Sanzu being the only one who knew, wasn't faced by your unexpected behavior. But the others... Oh, the others.

You heard multiple voices call out your name in a questioning manner. Kokonoi turned around so fast to give his back to the camera that he nearly slammed his elbow against Mikey; Mochizuki just stood there frozen. As for the other four, they went after you.

You shrieked at their sudden movements. They surprised you, so you ran as fast as you could. Wrong, bold of you to assume they wouldn't enjoy chasing their little deer. Ran and Rindo snatched the phone from your hand as Kakucho held you by your waist. At that moment, Takeomi stood in front of you, holding your jaw so that you wouldn't look away.

“Hey, hey. Stop.” came Sanzu, “Y/N’s just playing.”

“Yeah,” laughed Rindo after checking your phone.

“Yeah, the little lady here just called us intimidating dogs,” completed Ran after his brother.

Still, sandwiched between Kakucho and Takeomi, you tried to explain yourself, “I didn't say that!”

“I’m using my scary dog privilege to walk alone? What do you mean by that? And with us?” confused, asked Ran, still reading your video’s caption.

Mikey looked at Kokonoi in bewilderment at almost attacking him, but what you said next left him perplexed.

“It’s hot!” You squirmed in Kakucho’s tight grip. They all looked at you like you’ve lost your mind. “The intimidating concept,” you made some hand gestures as you spoke, but it seems they still didn't get the idea.

“You are making no fucking sense. Speak clearly, Sweetheart.” Takeomi said almost above your lips. You could feel the heat of his smoke on your cheek.

“The- the idea of all of you, with that Bonten work attitude, is kind of hot,” you whispered the last three words with your eyes closed.

By the look of it, only the two closest to you heard your complete answer because Kakucho and Takeomi didn't seem as tense as before. On the contrary, the energy around the three of you drastically changed.

“I don't think it's wise for you to be telling us that in the middle of a street,” murmured Kakucho on your ear. He felt you shiver at his response.

“Agreed. You like being a little tease,” said Takeomi when you felt a pinch on your side, which made you squeal in between the two Bonten members.

After being released from Kakucho and Takeomi, you all continued your way to where they parked their rides. With your fresh wounds on your pride from the failed try-to-make-a-TikTok operation, you sadly staggered after them. Such an uncommon act coming from you called Mikey’s attention.

With his head, Mikey signaled for Sanzu to go and check on you. In a blink of an eye, you felt the weight of the male practically plopping himself on top of you.

“Sanzu! You are heavy!” you couldn't help but smile at his antics.

“You know, you should have taken a picture instead of a video. I believe it captures better the hot vibe,” said Sanzu mockingly, which you rolled your eyes in return.

On second thought, you stopped dead in your tracks. That resulted in Sanzu tripping and sending you both to the ground.

“Stand up, you two. Stop making a scene,” instantly huffed Kokonoi.

Ignoring Kokonoi’s comment, you went and squeezed Sanzu’s cheeks, both still on the ground. “Can we take a group picture!? Please!?!” you asked excitedly. Turning your head a little, you directed the question at Mikey again, “please?”

Some, if not all the males present, strongly exhaled air knowing just what would happen.

“Sure,” said Mikey as he continued to walk.

-

That's how Bonten executives ended up posing for you in a staircase.

As you set the timer for the picture, you saw Ran moving strangely. “Ran, why are you manspreading?” You questioned the older Haitani.

“I’m posing! This is the concept, right?” his response caused a fit of laughter from Rindo.

You shook your head at their actions. Looking around, you saw that Kakucho wasn't around, so you called out to him. “Kaku-chan!! We’re about to take the photo!”

As you turned around, you saw Kakucho coming down the stairs shirtless. “Ka- Kakucho! Why are you without anything under your jacket?!” You couldn't keep your eyes away.

Something must have shown on your face because Sanzu began to turn around and see what made you so flustered.

The stunt Kakucho pulled made you forget about the timer, and the camera made a click.

“Noo..” you were pouting since you didn't appear in the photo. But also because they all looked good. Inspecting it, you saw Mikey and Kokonoi in similar positions.

“We need to take another, right?” the heat on your cheeks burned you. Kakucho’s stomach was pressed to your side as he also looked at the picture on the camera. “You didn't get in time-”

“And whose fault is that?” you voiced without thinking.

“Oh? Is that so?” Came from Rindo, “then we all should follow Kakucho’s example,” said the younger Haitian as he began to take off his suit.

“On it,” added Sanzu.

“S-stop!!” you cried out.

[misfit-mania-the-first]

Mezmer-met well

Hypnopotamus x non-binary!OC

This is kind of a loosey-goosey OC story so I Lind of wrote it with x reader vibes

—————

Hypnopotamus surveyed the nightlife of New York, watching closely for any sign of the turtles. It was unlikely just to see them randomly waltzing about below but you never know.

He sighed. He just wanted a few minutes to relax, get his mind off being fused with his former hippo companion. It was a sad lot. No longer could he mesmerize and hypnotize. I mean, he still could.

For the subway rats.

Everyone else ran screaming, especially since he kind of, sort of, might have become a villain.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. That damn mosquito made him agitated constantly, always itching for a fight. Those first few days were full of adrenaline and despair, and even still the remnant of those emotions remain.

Mating season didn’t help either. It was technically seven months but he mellowed out a bit two months in.

“Get off!” Someone had discovered him! He jumped up, spinning to face…nothing?

“Where did-“

“Fuck! Leave me alone!” He heard a scream and a clack echo from the streets down below. Peeking over the edge, he saw someone running down the street at full tilt. Silverfish not far behind.

“Oof, that’s rough. They won’t survive long.” Hypno was curious though, and decided to stay and watch.

————

“Get off!” Peyton swung his arm down forcefully as he ran, shaking off the little gremlin. It hit the ground as two more overtook it.

Shit! There’s so many! He took off again, pumping his uneven legs. He lost one heel a few block ago and couldn’t bother to circle back.

Peyton slowed slightly to turn a corner and a silverfish knocked the wind out of him, hanging onto his back like a backpack.

“Fuck! Leave me alone!” He yanked and yanked, it’s claws tearing his dress slightly. He threw the thing down a little too hard, mentally cursing as it split.

“Okay,” he took off his other heel, “You ruined my night. It’s payback time!” He held the black heel out like a knife, stopping and taking a stance at the corner.

He braced himself as the swarm rushed him, attacking him left, right, and middle. He punched and swung his heel, careful not to hit too hard.

He took a step back. His arms swung as claws scratched his limbs. They burned and bled. He took another step.

At this point five silverfish we’re scurrying all over his body, tangled in his hair, shredding his clothes. The sound was cacophonous. Screeching like a hurricane tearing through metal.

He shouted at the feeling of teeth sinking into his flesh and bashed his arm against a nearby pole.

The insect detached and limped away into the darkness, it’s eyes glowing as it waited for a window of opportunity.

“Dammit, get off!” He searched for someone, anyone to help. The streets were empty, barely lit by the headlights of passing cars.

Knuckles bloody, he punched a persistent attacker that latched to his knee. The person stumbled, regaining stability a moment later.

Two more silverfish used his chest as a springboard. They landed a few feet away, haunches positioned for a pounce.

He noticed. He couldn’t stop it. His arms and half his mind were busy fending off the leftover swarm.

The limping bug skittered in front. It chattered in sync with its now frozen brethren.

Shit.

He took the opportunity to knock all the critters off of their, finally able to catch a breath.

But only for a second.

As soon as he caught his breath, the assumed leader pounced, whipping around his legs and latching onto his knee.

He shouted in pain and stumbled. The others soared through the air in a flurry of sound and silver and fell like a hammer onto his chest and face, knocking him over.

He fell like a sack of bricks, skidding over the curb and landing heavy on his right leg. His ankle took the brunt of it, aching and swelling before they had stopped their descent to the asphalt.

The silverfish stood on their hind legs watching, chittering quietly.

“What? Go away! I fell! You got what you wanted.” He shouted through clenched teeth. Was this a sick mutant game they played?

Something to the right of Peyton apparently caught their eyes as they snapped their heads in tandem towards their newest fixation.

A bright light appeared in Peyton’s peripheral, overtaking his vision and blinding him. He squinted to preserve his vision to no avail.

“Oh god…” A car was barreling towards him, undoubtedly honking its horn. He couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own screaming. He couldn’t even see it properly, the light so intense it took his vision.

He wouldn’t even see his own death.

Thud

A deafening crunching sound, like a thousand metal bars bending at once, made him jump and yelp.

Oh my god I’m dead. Oh my god.

Then…nothing?

The light was gone, leaving large splotches in his vision. He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

A man. A huge hulking man, stood between him and the now crushed car. The man wore a purple jacket, half shrouded in shredded bumper.

“Are you all right?” The man spoke with a New Zealand accent.

“Um! Yes…no. I’m hurt. I fell.” His sentences came out in abrupt spurts, mind still catching up to the fact that a man stopped a car with his bare hands. His hands.

Which he proceeded to pry and yank out of the car-cass.

”Damnit, it’ll have to wait until we’re safe.” He turned around.

It’s a fucking hippo. A very sharply dressed hippo…with a mustache?

The hippo man seemed shocked as well, it’s mouth open slightly and his eyes wide. It-He cleared his throat and went to speak when a silverfish came flying, missing him by a hair. Or, rather, turban.

“No time, come on!” Hippo man pulled three rings from under his coat and flung them through the air, slicing through the critters.

“No, wait! Now there’s more of them. Look-“

“Just a distraction!” The hippo hurried over, towering over the smaller injured person as he lifted them to their feet.

“Ow, ow! My ankle’s hurt! I can’t walk.” The twisted ankle made his leg utterly useless, almost returning him to the pavement in an unceremonious landing if not for hippo man reaching out.

His hands were huge, able to lift the hurt individual easily. The chittering sidewalk bystanders became agitated and took their pouncing stance again.

“I’ll carry you.” Peyton shook his head as he was placed in the crook of an elbow, snugly tucked into hippo man’s side.

“Mesmer-roooo!!” The hippo man sent out an echoing call that froze the swarm in mid air.

By the time Peyton realized the hippo was magic, they had soared over many rooftops and buildings, and arrived in a large warehouse.

The windows and auxiliary doors were boarded up with old green wood, a strong stench of manure wafting from the one open door that they were being carried towards.

“Hang on, wait! Where are we going? Stop!” He squirmed, terrified of what might happen if left alone with this man-hippo.

“It’s where I stay, for now. My home away from home.” A home that doesn’t exist. But he didn’t say that part out loud.

“I can find my own way. Thank for saving my life, goodbye forever.” He swung his foot over the sizeable forearm below him and tried to hop down to the floor.

“Hang on, hang on. You can’t even put weight on that foot. You’ll get hit by a car properly this time if you go roaming around like that!”

“Well it’s better than the alternative! What if you’re a creep?” Peyton backed away as best he could while being supported by the man’s gloves hands.

“How do I prove that I’m not?” Hypno was getting frustrated.

The one good thing he did since being turned and he gets called a creep. Perfect.

“What’s in there? What are you? Did you use magic?” Peyton’s questions didn’t sound so much like avoid-random-creep questions but Hypno answered them all the same.

“Animals from magicians, hippo man, and yes I did. Just a little hypnosis.” Hippo man squished his fingers together to show just how little magic he used.

“Okay, uh…okay. Okay.” His voice shook. The gravity of the situation finally sunk in.

“I can’t go home…I can’t leave, can I?”

“I’m afraid not. If you want to leave once you’ve healed then you are allowed to do so! Not taking a hostage here.” The hippo smiled nervously.

“…okay. Take me in Mister Hippo Man.” Said hippo in question’s smile turned to a scowl.

“Hypno-potamus, thank you very much.” And with that, begrudgingly assisted-not carried-Peyton into the warehouse.

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE THREE || GIRL OF STEEL

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : swearing and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 10 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 5.7k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : for myself 

↳ next episode : curse womb must die

↳ barista’s notes : i am back again with another episode of jujutsu kaisen everyone ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ this will be the last update for now since i want to get some of your requests done due to my pushing them back to get the first three episodes done! i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) and come again ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

3. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part four soon because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ

4. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

Taken back to his discovery, you turned back to look at Gojo will a deadpan expression leading him to then carefully suggest, “Since you are part of the lost L/N clan, I won’t tell the higher-ups about your existence but rather have you twist your name slightly when you enrol, how does that sound?”

Glancing at the teacher with suspicion, you tried to hide the gut-wrenching feeling that there was not a possible chance of you now escaping from this. You had been caught and found and there was no way to lie yourself out of this situation you were in, not when Gojo had discovered who you really were while Fushiguro seemed to look clueless on what was going on between his teacher and the female sorcerer in front of him.

Letting out a sigh of frustration once again, you looked up at the sky, letting the same moonlight bathe your face as it did for Sukuna a few minutes ago.

“What a drag”

                                              ꕥ

‘What the hell did I get myself into you?’

While sipping on the straw of your orange juice carton, you were currently leaning against a railing in the city of Toyko within the Harajuku district in front of a train station, where you were supposed to meet with the new student that had enrolled in the school.

Between you were both Itadori, who was eating an ice lolly while sitting on the same railing, and Fushiguro, who was just standing while facing towards you both, as they were waiting for the same person as well as a special someone who was supposed to be here with the three of you.

“How are there only three first-years? Isn’t that too few?” Itadori curiously asked as he turned to Fushiguro for the answer to his understandable questions, since he was in shock that a year group could be so small for a large school like Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.

“Well, have you ever met anyone who can see curses before?” Fushiguro questioned, as he was trying to make his new classmate get the answer he was looking for.

“Hm, expect for L/N, who hid it from everyone, nope,” Itadori than answered, leading Fushiguro look at you for a second, only to discover you still continuing to drink the orange juice that you had bought earlier while looking at the entrance of the station in a daze, it was like you were ignoring the two of them.

“That just proves how small a minority jujutsu sorcerers are,” Fushiguro explained before reminding Itadori about a really important piece of information that the vessel seemed to have forgotten. “Remember, that L/N is now Gojo Y/N, since Gojo-sensei changed her name for privacy reasons,” Fushiguro stated, leading to your classmate to look at you with a more surprised look.

“Why are you now referred to as Gojo rather than your last name?” Itadori queried as he leaned forward to get a better look at you. This reminder of your changed name led to your eyes to squint in annoyance as you steadily but furiously began to scrunch your carton since your situation, in your opinion, had gone from bad to worse.

“Ah….I’m not really sure, to be honest,” you answered with a lie, as you moved the plastic straw away from your lips as you then stirred the box around like it was a glass of wine.

‘Ugh….Gojo...’

                                              ꕥ

“Stareeeeeeeeeeee”

Looking down at the document sheet that was handed to you, you were taken by sudden surprise at the name section that was on the top left of the sheet, as there was a subtle change made from what you could recall from your birth name.

“Gojo Y/N…” you muttered under your breath leading to your teacher to clap his hands in delight before presenting you with his classic cheeky smile.

“Ah~ you are now my adoptive daughter~” Gojo cheerfully confessed, leading you to pause for a second before looking back up at the special-grade sorcerer with widened eyes - like a deer caught in headlights - once you processed the information in your head.

“How is everyone going to believe that is true? There is no way, people will believe that if they see the documents were signed yesterday or today,” you argued, trying to convince him that the excuse he gave to hide your identity was ridiculous. However, before you could even get a second word in, you unexpectedly felt a finger being pressed lightly onto your lips as if to tell you to hush yourself.

“Don’t worry, I manipulated the documents to say that I had adopted you five years ago, so your secret is safe with me and the principle, none of the higher-ups knows and none of the other students as well except for Yuji and Megumi,” Gojo informed you with a smirk, as if telling you that you had been proven wrong. Sighing in frustration, you finally gave up with the argument and handed the sheet back to Gojo as you began to fully take in where you were right now.

It was such a quick process. The day your schoolmate Itadori Yuji became the vessel of the King of Curses, was the same day that both Fushiguro and Gojo took you to Jujutsu Tech to attend and become a student at their school. In your mind, you were still supposed to be back home in Sendai. Back home in the empty house that used to be shared with your mother. Back home where you were away from the city life and peacefully in the countryside away from the hustling capital while blending into the crowd as if you were just a normal student with a normal life. 

If you hadn’t come back to school that night. 

If you hadn’t noticed the curse back at the rugby field.

If you hadn’t even looked out that window, to begin with.

All this wouldn’t have happened. 

None of it. 

You still would have been hidden like you were supposed to be.

“Oh! L/N, you’re staying here as well?” 

Snapping out of your daze, you quickly turned back around to find the source of the voice that called out for you, only to discover both Itadori and Fushiguro walking towards you leading you to then slowly close your dorm door before greeting them with a small wave.

“Ah, ah, it’s now Gojo Y/N boys, make sure to not say her last time,” Gojo quickly stated, causing both of the boys to look at their teacher with such bewilderment before turning their head towards you as if you were going to explain to them what was the reasoning behind this sudden change. 

To be honest, there was no point in your opinion. Itadori had no idea or clue on who the three families were in the jujutsu world and it was such effort to explain to him the reasons why these families were so famous and as for Fushiguro, he could probably discover that on his own so, once again, there was no point on giving them an answer.

“Well, it’s all good!” Gojo suddenly stated, as he once again clapped his hands together with a gleeful expression displayed on his face leading you to look to the side with an annoyed glance, as you didn’t need nor want the happy-go-lucky enthusiasm after discovering you were now ‘part’ of the Gojo clan as someone’s adoptive daughter. “Most importantly, we’re heading out tomorrow, we’re gonna go pick up the fourth first-year!” Gojo declared to the three of you causing a total of three pairs of eyes to look at him as you, Itadori and Fushiguro began to process the information.

‘Another one huh?’

                                             ꕥ

“By the way, didn’t you say I was the third and L/N was the fourth?” Itadori questioned, as he suddenly remembered that you and him unexpectedly enrolled in the sorcerer school leading him to wonder how long has it been since the ‘second’ student had been enrolled and why they were only just arriving now.

“Their entry was decided a while ago, you know what our school’s like, everyone has unique circumstances and remember it’s Gojo, not L/N,” Fushiguro answered while trying to remind Itadori of your new name, leading him to place his hand on the back of his neck before informing you and Fushiguro that he was just used to calling you by your original last name.

“It’s fine, just call me Gojo when we are around other people excluding Gojo-sensei, okay?” you reassured Itadori, causing the cheerful boy to nod at you, informing you that he understood your statement.

“Sorry for the wait!” Gojo shouted at you three as he was walking towards you before noticing a change of look between his two new students. “Your uniforms made it in time, I see,” Gojo uttered as he peered at both you and Itadori before giving an approving nod as if he was a fashion designer looking at his models before hitting the runway.

From what Gojo has stated, Itadori was wearing the classic blue uniform with the noticeable two pins sewed onto the left side to indicate that he was a sorcerer at jujutsu tech with a red hoodie that added a hint of colour compared to his counterpart Fushiguro, who had a high neck. On the other hand, you were sporting a short jacket with a white dress shirt underneath while wearing a long skirt that had a slit on the side to give your legs some room, revealing the thigh-high black socks you were wearing to cover some of the skin from the gentle winds that were coming while your katana was resting in a bag as you were carrying it on your left shoulder to conceal your weapon from the other citizens around.

“Yeah, it’s a perfect fit,” Itadori said while showing his teacher the thumbs up before suddenly commenting, “though it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s, it has a hood for one,” as he started to point the differences between his uniform to his new classmate’s to which caused you and the mentioned sorcerer to look at him while he tugged on his red hoodie.

“That’s because the uniforms can be customised upon request,” Gojo mentioned, leading you to discover and finally understand why your uniform looked completely different to the one another student was wearing, all you remembered about her was that she had greenish hair while wearing a pair of glasses.

‘So, he was the one that put the request in huh?’

“But I never put in any requests,” Itadori commented, as he was confused on why there was an alteration to his uniform without his knowledge.

“I was the one who put on the custom order, as well as my daughter new uniform~” Gojo said with a smile as he playfully decided to pull on your cheek leading you to smack his hand away, resulting in him pouting while rubbing the back on his hand like your smack had caused him some pain.

“Whatever, I guess,” Itadori remarked, as he looked down onto his hoodie.

“Be careful, Gojo-sensei has a tendency to do things like that,” Fushiguro warned both you and itadori before looking back to the mentioned sorcerer with a question in mind. “Most importantly, why are we meeting up in Harajuku?” Fushiguro curiously asked since it was a bit strange to him that a student didn’t just arrive at the school like all three of you did.

“Because it’s what she asked for,” Gojo answered before Itadori randomly noticed a popcorn stand before declaring that he wanted some to enjoy leading you to walk behind him to make sure he didn’t get lost within the city that was crowded with the ongoing shopper as well as tourists that decided to take a break away from their work or lives to experience a new setting.

“Oh hello there, are you on the clock right now?” someone randomly asked, causing you to turn back only to discover what seemed to be a businessman with a green suit paired with a unique purple tie decorated with teal polka dots.

“Sort of but not really,” you uninterestingly answered, giving the man a bored expression leading his nervousness to increase further due to the anxiety of talking to a random stranger in the middle of the streets of Tokyo.

“You see, I’m looking for potential models, this is who I am,” the man explained as he processed to pull out his business card to which you didn’t give a day of time to look down at. “Would you be interested?” the businessman processed to question before you lifted an open palm while giving the man a polite smile.

“Sorry, I’m not really interested in modelling at all but thank you for the opportunity,” you politely declined as you noticed the deflated look the worker had given you. However, before the modelling scout could apologise and thank you for your time, a hand violently grabbed his shoulder before he was pulled back to face the opposite way.

“Hey, you, what about me?” a girl asked, causing you to look behind the small businessman’s figure to see a girl around the same age as you point to herself with the thumb. From what you could observe, she had short orange hair that seemed to be dyed due to the slightly darker colour of her eyebrows but it wasn’t obvious while carrying what seemed to be many shopping bags around her arms while her carrier pink backpack on her back. However, the uniform she was wearing was saying something as the buttons gave an indication of what she was.

‘Ah, so she’s the new student’ you thought before processing to continue looking at the scene right in front of you. 

“For the modelling gig, duh, I’m asking what you think about me,” she commented leading you to give squint your eyes in confusion, what was the point of being a model when you were already a jujutsu sorcerer at Toyko Metropolitan Curse Technical College. 

On the other hand, what you were concerned with was the three males who were standing on the sidelines watching the situation unfold leading you to give them a bored look before walking towards them with your left hand in your skirt pocket since the slit on the other side made it not possible for another pocket to be made.

“We’re about to go talk to her? That is kinda embarrassing,” Itadori commented while lifting up what seemed to be more than popcorn in his hand leading to a confused look to appear on your face, while Fushiguro gave an irritated side glance as he tutted.

“So are you,” Fushiguro mentioned, due to the silly ‘rook’ tourist glasses he was wearing before glancing to the other side where Gojo stood as the teacher called out the female student to come their way, while some female passersby commented on the white-haired sorcerer’s blindfold to which was quite understandable.

                                               ꕥ

Slashing the metal locker door shut, the new student then inserted the needed amount of coins to make sure the door was completely locked before turning to the three males that stood right in front of her.

“Okay, once again,” Gojo mentioned as he raised an arm to indicate to her that she can introduce herself.

“Kugisaki Nobara,” Kugisaki introduced herself before continuing with, “be happy, boys. I’m the one woman in your group,” leading to some confusion to float around within the group.

“Where’s Y/N?” Gojo curiously asked the boys as they continuously turned around the area to find where you were before turning back to look at Kugisaki. Suddenly, behind Kugisaki, the boys had found you heading towards the group while casually sipping on another carton of orange juice that you had bought out of the blue once you saw it while passing by a vending machine when you were walking to the nearest locker station for the student that had arrived.

“Ah, sorry, I got a bit thirsty,” you commented while lifting the carton up before finally standing next to the new student, who you just found out was named Kugisaki Nobara as you were able to still hear what she was saying while you were coming back to them. However, it seemed like you weren’t what she was analysing right now as you noticed her looking right at Itadori and Fushguro with an intense glance.

“I’m Itadori Yuji, I’m from Sendai,” Itadori introduced himself as he used his finger to indicate to himself as well.

“Fushiguro Megumi,” bluntly stated, as he turned to look at Kugisaki.

Letting out a sigh of disappointment, Kugisaki proceeded to complain about the circumstances she was in, leading the boys to look at her with a really awkward expression on their faces.

“She took one look and sighed,” Itadori commented, as his face turned into a sulk while Fushiguro wasn’t making eye contact at all.

“I’m Gojo Y/N, I hope we can get along,” you quickly stated, while trying not to cringe at your name, leading Kugisaki to look to her side to find you looking at her before a hint of glee and joy processed to manifest in her eyes.

“Maybe the circumstances aren’t that bad! But why do you have the same name as your teacher when you don’t even look alike?” Kugisaki mentioned while giving you a small smile to which you gave her the same trying to be friendly with the new classmate that you had just met.

“Ah it’s a drag to explain fully, but I’m his adoptive daughter,” you quickly answered as you didn’t want to slip up the lie that was concealing your whole identity which seemed to convince the sorcerer since she gave you another nod, telling you that she understood what you had just mentioned.

“Are we going somewhere from here?” Fushiguto asked his teacher, as he turned to look towards the direction of the tall man leading to a light laugh to emit from his mouth causing you to get suspicious of what Gojo was planning.

“We do have all four of you together and not to mention, three of you are from the countryside,” Gojo suddenly mentioned, leading all his students to look at him, anticipating what he had planned. “So of course we’re going on a tour of Tokyo,” Gojo suddenly announced, leading to excitement between Itadori and Kugisaki to burst out while Gojo joined in, to hype the moment up.

“Tokyo! Tokyo! Tokyo! We love Tokyo!” Itadori and Kugisaki cheered, leading you and Fushiguro to look at the two with such confusion expressed on your faces.

While you looked at the scene with such confusion, Fushiguro was more confused at the fact of why you weren’t enlivened at the fact about this ‘tour’ while the two started arguing about the structure of Tokyo as they were getting some places confused with other places.

“Why ain’t you excited?” Fushiguro commented as you continued to sip on the citrusy drink that you had brought earlier leading to another question on your obsession with orange juice to pop up in his head.

“I’ve already been to Tokyo for some business trips with my mother from time to time and what I mean by that is exorcising curses here with her,” you answered before continuing with “also, I have a suspicion that we ain’t going on a tour, it is Gojo Saturo after all,” before going back to drinking on the carton drink you were craving for.

“I will now announce our destination,” Gojo stated, leading both Itadori and Kugisaki to kneel down in front of your teacher, only for you to give them a strange look before Gojo proudly announced where everyone was heading off to. 

“Roppongi!”

“Ro-ppong-gi!” Itadori and Kugisaki said with glee as they turned to each other with the same exciting look.

‘Well, let’s see how this goes’

                                               ꕥ

‘I knew it....’

“There's a curse here,” Fushguro stated as you gave a slight nod while inspecting the large abandoned building that was surrounded by a large ominous dark purple hues indicating that there was just more than one curse in the building or maybe just a single one - you couldn’t sense it due to the amount of cursed energy being released out of the building.

“You liar!” Itadori and Kugisaki screamed in anger while complaining at the fact that they both were deceived on where they were heading off to before Kugisaki shouted something about ‘toying with us country folk’.

“There’s a big cemetery nearby, the double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse,” Gojo informed everyone like staring up at the building as well.

“So they really do pop up more often around graves?” Itadori questioned after his little tantrum, leading you to realise that he had no knowledge on how curses appeared or anything to do with the jujutsu world to start with.

“The issue isn’t the cemetery itself, it’s the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear,” you explained to the noobie while swirling the now empty carton in hand.

“Oh, it was the same for schools, too, wasn’t it?” Itadori then asked as he turned to look at you for any answers causing Kugisaki to pause her ranting to look at Itadori with a perplexed look on her face.

“Hold up. He didn’t even know that yet?” Kugisaki questioned, leading you to give off an awkward laugh while looking to the side away from the group which only led to more confusion to emit from her.

“To be honest….” Fushiguro started before explaining the situation that had brought Itadori to where he was now causing Kugisaki to give an extremely disgusted look on her face - and to be honest, you couldn’t blame her at all.

“He swallowed a special-grade cursed object!?! Gross! Unbelievable! That’s so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way, no way!” Kugisaki yelled out before running away from the three of you as you looked at her with nonchalant faces.

“What?!” Itadori shouted in confusion.

“I agree with her,” Fushiguro mentioned in a blunt tone, leading you to completely ignore your classmates as you continuously looked up at the building in front of you.

“I want to know what all of you are capable of, just think of this as a field test,” Gojo informed everyone with a smile on his face before calling out Itadori and Kugisaki to tell them they were going to exorcise the curse inside the building themselves leaving you confused since you were also a new student here as well.

“Huh? But I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right? I can’t use any jujutsu yet,” Itadori asked before indicating his lack of ability to the teacher.

“You’re basically half a curse already, there cursed energy flowing throughout your body,” Gojo stated as he pointed at the vessel before continuing to explain “though controlling that energy isn’t something you can learn overnight, so use this,” before taking out what seemed to be a cursed weapon in front of you and the rest.

“It’s the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It’s a weapon imbued with cursed energy, it’ll work on curses, too,” Gojo explained while Itadori gazed at the weapon in amazement.

“Like Gojo’s sword? And why isn’t she taking part in this test?” Itadori then asked as he pointed at the bag behind your back leading to Kugisaki to look at it in shock since she thought it was just a normal carrier bag that you just had.

“Yeah, kind of like that and to be honest, this test isn’t good enough to test her abilities, she wouldn’t need to take the katana out and probably use it with the wooden hilt on,” Gojo explained as he turned to you with a cheeky smile of his face.

Suddenly, Kugisaki turned her back towards all of you before fastening a brown belt around her waist which had a small pouch to keep whatever she needed in there, leading Itadori to follow behind her.

“Oh, one more thing,” Gojo suddenly shouted, causing Itadori to turn as Gojo then stated, “don’t let Sukuna out, if you use him, you’ll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you’ll also drag everyone around into it.”

“Got it. I won’t let Sukuna out,” Itadori assumed his teacher before Kugisaki turned back around to complain to her classmate to hurry up while you quickly took a seat on the stone platform that was right behind you before setting your bag down onto the side making it lean against the same stone you took a seat on while Fushiguro and Goj followed behind.

“I think I’ll go, too,” Fushiguro mentioned, causing you to give him a side glance as you wondered if he was worried or just not hopeful that the two will actually exorcise the curse.

“Don’t push yourself, you’re still recovering,” Gojo reminded his student before saying “if I needed to put someone in for backup, it would be Y/N since she seems to be in a better condition than you.”

“But someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?” Fushiguro questioned in a concerned tone.

“True,” Gojo answered in a dazed tone, indicating to you that he wasn’t worried one bit.

From your perspective, you understood why Fushiguro was worried about your new classmate since he didn’t have the ability to take on a curse from his lack of experience but from what you could recall from that night, it seemed like you didn’t have to worry at all.

“That Yuji..he’s missing a few up here,” Gojo randomly stated, as he pointed his head to indicate his brain. “He has no hesitation, when it comes to killing these things, take that the form of living creatures, albeit bizarre-looking ones, to try to kill him,” Gojo explained to his long-term student while you were just resting the back of your head on the wall before your teacher continued with “and it’s not like he’s been familiar with curses for a long time, like you. This is a boy who used to live a normal high school life, you’ve seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even though with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, haven’t you?” leading to Fushiguro to look down to his hands as he thought about the statement while you looked up to the sky to question your own thoughts.

‘Is that one of the reasons why the L/N clan decided to disappear? Nah, they were able to seal Sukuna, there is no way that could be the reason’

“So today I want to confirm how crazy she is,” Gojo mentioned, somewhat giving you a slight idea on what he was trying to inform you both.

“But Kugisaki has the experience, right? Little late for that now, isn’t it?” Fushguro asked as he was still unsure about what Gojo was trying to tell him.

“Curses are born from human minds, so their strength and numbers grow in proportion to the population, curses in Tokyo are on a different level than those in the countryside,” Gojo said in a low tone to which Fushiguro understood but still had some uncertainty lingering in his head.

“What he is trying to say that ‘level’ doesn’t mean the amount of cursed energy one curse may have but their cunningness, what he is testing is how one reacts to cruel choices that are forcibly handed to them like the weight on a human life in danger balancing upon your shoulder,” you casually explained, leading Fushiguro to look at you while Gojo had a bright smile on his face, glad that you understood what he was talking about.

However, before you continue with your explanation, there was a loud crash being heard from above with pieces of broken glass falling to the ground leading to the three of you down below to look up, only to find the curse causing the purple hue trying to escape.

“I’ll exorcise it,” Fushiguro quickly said, as he clasped his hands together ready to summon a shikigami. However, he felt a tug on his arm leading him to look down to find you tugging onto the sleeve of his uniform.

“Hold on, have some confidence in your peers,” you muttered, before letting go of the fabric as you processed to lean your head back onto the wall while closing your eyes. “I don’t know how long you have been alone but understand you have teammates now, so rely on them as well, okay?” you stated as you slowly opened your eyes to peer up at the curse, only to suddenly see large metal strikes come out of its body before disintegrating into nothing, while the purple aura that was surrounding the abandoned building disappeared with it.

“Nice, she’s crazy, all right,” Gojo mentioned with a gleeful smile on his face, happy with the results that had just come in from this field test.

                                          ꕥ

“I live over there! Thanks again!” the kid mentioned as he pointed towards the direction of his house before running off.

From what you could recall, at the end of the field test, Itadori and Kugisaki came out of the building with a child before explaining that he was in the building during the test and he was caught in the middle of it all. 

Observing the boy running to his house, you wanted to make sure he got home safely from a distance to which he did once you saw him enter through the gates to what seemed to be his house before being greeted by an obviously worried mother, who scolded him for wondering about before being pulled into a hug.

‘I wonder what’s it like to have a normal childhood?’ you wondered before small but vivid memories began to appear in the back of your mind.

“I’m jealous,” you whispered, before turning around to find both Fushiguro and Gojo already walking back to Itadori and Kugisaki, who both were sitting on the stone steps impatiently waiting for the three of you to finish the task that needed to be done.

‘In the end, I’m alone with the responsibilities of the L/N clan upon my shoulders but I have you, dear. Even with this world being full of curses and impurities, I feel like I have a normal ordinary life with you by my side. I wish I could have given that to you, I’m sorry….’

“It’s okay,” you whispered again, this time leading Gojo to turn back to you with a confused look on his face which caused Fushiguro to look back as well, finding it strange that you haven’t left your stop since the kid was already back at his home, safe and out of harm’s reach for now.

“Did you say something Y/N?” Gojo asked, only for you to shake your head to deny that you had before making your way back to the group.

“Good Joseph! We made sure the kid got home,” Gojo shouted while giving a small wave towards the two students, who suddenly jumped up on their feet which confused you slightly since they had such a determined look on their faces.

“Now shall we go grab some food?” Gojo kindly questioned leading the same two students to now express two huge grins while shouting out their preferred meal for tonight.

“Beef!”

“Sushi!”

“Leave it all to me!” Gojo excitedly stated with two thumbs up before turning to his two other students, who were waiting on the sidelines. “And you guys?” Gojo asked with the same huge grin that Itadori and Kugisaki were expressing.

“I don’t really mind,” you answered in a casual tone before turning to look at FUshiguro, who was suddenly randomly scrolling through his phone with a bored but somewhat irritated expression on his face, causing you to wonder what he was reading or finding that made him have a scowl on his face.

Taking you by the arm, Gojo started walking off with you, Itadori and Kugisaki leaving Fushiguro behind, who had just realised that you all were walking away once he heard his teacher say ‘okay, let’s go’.

“Oh, I forgot about my biggest haul of the day. Hey, you, go fetch my things,” Kugisaki said in a demanding tone, as she decided to be the leader of the group since she was walking in front of everyone.

“Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even,” Itadori complained, as he didn’t want to get the items that were left in the coin locker back at Harajuku.

“We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?” Kugisaki countered back, as she confidently continued walking in front of all of you like she would know where the restaurant Gojo was taking you all was.

“What about my raw strength?” Itadori argued, leading you to wonder what he did during the time he was the at the abandoned building with Kugisaki to mention about his immense but strange strength.

“Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?” Kugisaki shouted as she was implicating the cursed finger that Itadori swallowed as a reason for Itadori’s strength.

“It’s not just that! Right, Fushiguro, Gojo?” Itadori asked as he turned to you and Fushguro, only to find the male student with a frown on his face as he looked to the side.

“Huh? What’s the matter, Fushiguro?” Itadori questioned, as he wasn’t sure on why Fushiguro seemed to be moodier than he originally was.

“Nothing,” Fushiguro bluntly answered, not making his answer very convincing for you, Itadori, Kugisaki and Gojo leading your teacher to think it was the best time to tease his shikigami-user student.

“He’s pouting because he didn’t get to join in,” Gojo mentioned with a sly smile, which caused Kugisaki to lean back with her hand on her lips to cover her laugh.

“What a child,” Kugisaki teased, causing Fushiguro to groan in frustration before giving the female sorcerer with an irritated glare which led to Itadori laughing at the facial expression, leaving you to stay silent as you watched the scene in front of you.

‘But I’ll make sure you have the most normal life as you possibly can, so make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

“Yeah mother, I’m trying,” you whispered before continuing to walk with everyone to wherever you all were heading off to without realising the events that will occur in the future.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[quicktimeeventfull]

Day 5: Original and Copy @unofficial-deathnotetober L comes to visit Beyond in the hospital after the events of the novel; Beyond preforms a little quick-change magic and steals him away. I was thinking about how it's not technically canon that Beyond has any positive feelings towards L, obsessive or otherwise, and wanted to write something about that. I personally like L quite a bit and am not co-signing any of Beyond's opinions. Also within: Beyond reflects on which name (chosen or not) the Shinigami eyes see, lodges some complaints against the Wammy House, and learns that concussions are in fact Really Bad. TW for graphic violence and major character death. This is around 4.5k words, and you can read the full thing here, on A03, or on Dreamwidth.

In the end it’s L who emerges victorious, staggering out of that filthy alleyway with blood dripping down his face. The headlights of Watari’s car cast a glow around him that looks very nearly like a halo, as if some divine force had come to burn away all the things he’d had to do to survive. He is very pale and most of the blood is his.

This is how stories work — the hero wins, and the villain ends up as a horrible memory. Something best buried and forgotten. And L is going to forget. He’s going to be just fine. What happened in the old house wasn’t his fault. He’s going to leave it there, festering in the walls, and everything is going to be just exactly as it was.

Beyond isn’t here anymore. Watari is leading him gently into the car. He’s squeezing his shoulder and saying soft sweet things into his ear. He’s not going to make L explain why.

# Beyond had known that L would come. Of course he would. He’s the worst kind of person — cruel and capricious with that whisper of goodness in him, just enough to let everything else seem excusable.

So here Beyond is, handcuffed to a hospital bed, barely conscious, his face burnt past recognition. They’ve only just stabilized him enough to move him from the burn ward. He’s dying piece by piece and L will come to watch before they ship him out to carry on dying in prison, because that’s what a good person would do.

Or rather — Beyond is lying beneath the hospital bed, counting the tick-tick-ticks of the clock while Blackberry Brown rasps out her pathetic little breaths, smelling like rank and flesh. Beyond is tracing the grout on the hospital floor and waiting for his original to walk in.

Beyond had made Blackberry like that. He’d doused her in gasoline and set her on fire and left that pile of screaming human flesh in Blues-Harp’s room for Naomi to find. Naomi was smart and she’d followed Beyond’s trail of breadcrumbs just as cleverly as he’d known she would, right up to the conclusion he’d manufactured just for her. From her vantage point, there was no reason to believe that the charred body she’d uncovered wasn’t his. L had more information at his disposal, but he’d fall for the same trick anyway because he’d always liked a neat conclusion.

It was a terrible thing to do, of course, but it was simply the only way to draw L out. He never leaves the confines of whatever hotel room he’s holed himself into, and Watari always locks those up tight. But he’ll come for this. He’ll come to pass his last little mercy on Beyond, patient and forgiving as a saint; that’s the only way L can see himself, so that’s the only thing he can do.

So Beyond waits and breathes for hours and hours until he sees a pair of legs at the door. Doctors have been drifting in and out all day, but whoever this is is wearing pale blue jeans and tennis shoes with one of the laces coming untied. It’s been a very long time, but he recognizes the slackness of its knees.

Beyond holds his breath.

The bed sags slightly as L sits down above him, his legs dangling off. He smells like lemon soap. The hem of his jeans is fraying. If he wanted to, B could reach out and unwind a thread. He hovers his fingers close.

“Backup,” L says, quiet. His voice is deeper than Beyond remembers. He’s gotten older. It has the same melody to it, though, like a lullaby or a snatch of birdsong. “Why would you do this? You should have come home.” He’s quiet for a moment, as if he’s expecting that body on the bed to say something, which of course it doesn’t. This isn’t a conversation so much as it is a makeshift confessional.

L exhales, heavy. “I’m sorry. I really am. We didn’t do enough for you while you were with us. I’ll do everything I can now. You won’t get the death penalty. I’ll make sure of that. I don’t think I can do anything to keep you from a life sentence, but I’ll make sure it’s somewhere comfortable.”

His voice is soft and genuine, even if the words are clearly rehearsed. He’s probably telling the truth. Still, Beyond doesn’t like it at all. It feels grimy, all these saintly favours he’s handing out like cheap rosaries, all this pity. L used to talk a lot about the power of kindness, but all that ever meant to was a lack of cruelty.

Beyond has been out longer. People have done horrible things to him, things L thinks he can imagine because he’s solved cases involving them. He’s met people who cared about him, both with tenderness and hatred. He knows about love, how sweet it can be, and how grotesque; he isn’t certain that it’s a good thing, not all of the time, but he knows it’s not the disaffected charity which is the only thing L has ever had at his disposal. Morally speaking, L has the upper hand, but he’s lacking in certain essential qualities. Oh, it isn’t entirely his fault. That’s what the Wammy House had taught them. It was a home whose best feature was that they were never hurt.

Beyond could do it better.

Original doesn’t mean the best. It only means the first.

L treats everything like a game, but Beyond wouldn’t. He’d care about people. He’d protect them. He wouldn’t wait like a spider for the sweetest cases; he’d take anything that needed a saviour.

And he will. He’s going to.

L sighs and the bed rises as he pushes himself off of it and Beyond reaches out and grabs his ankle and yanks.

L hits the ground hard. He cries out, but the sound is squeaking and airless — the fall has winded him. Beyond slides out from under the bed and climbs up onto him and wraps both hands tight around L’s throat. His black eyes widen not so much with terror as with bewilderment. Beyond knows the feeling. Not horror yet, not fear, just the half-formed realization that something very bad is going to happen and that it’s going to happen to him.

Above his head, the numbers are swimming. He has three days left. This more-or-less confirms something he’s suspected for a while. The victims he’d picked were fated to die, but he’d been the death that was coming for them. He had contingency plans ready for if this weren't the case, but this is much easier.

L kicks at his kidneys with both heels, so Beyond hooks their legs together and rolls with the motion. L is on top of him, clawing at his hands, and then L is beneath him again. “Stop,” he says, but it’s little more than a strained sound, gasps of air wheezing through it. “Backup, please —“

Beyond slams L’s head hard against the floor. Once, and then once again. L gasps. His pupils don’t look right. He’s still conscious, though, making a strange gurgling sound, so Beyond does it one more time, and L’s head lolls. There’s blood seeping from the back of it.

Well, Beyond thinks. That’s that.

It was a stroke of luck that Blackberry’s room had been on the first floor. All he has to do is open up a window, then toss L’s limp body through it and leap out after it.

Out in the cold spring air, he picks L off the grass, shifts him into a bridal carry, then spirits him off into the streets of Los Angeles. #

L had a different name when they were children. Teddy Lawliet, a quaint name for a strange, dark-eyed boy that hid behind Quillsh whenever he came to visit. He’d been shy and sweet and almost apologetic every time he spoke to A and B, as if he were a visitor in their home. And then one day he’d shown up with a hard edge to him and a new confidence to his movements, and the name floating above his head had been L.

That was the year he’s solved the Gull Lake murders, which A and B had watched on TV, a bloody trail of crimes that ended with two men in jail and three women being led sobbing and safe from a shed in some out-of-the-way property in some obscure forest. It wasn’t the first case he’d solved under his code name, but something special must have happened during it. He’d seen something, maybe, or simply listened to too many of those recordings the murderers had left behind, and it had burned out whatever part of him made him Teddy.

Beyond has had different names, too. In the Wammy House, he’d been Backup, with no surname. And before that he’d been Sofia Nishikawa, which was the name his parents had written on his birth certificate and which they’d called him by when it was time to eat or walk to the park or be held. He sheds names like snakeskins, without interest or remorse. As far as he’s concerned, a name is something you can take on or off as you please. They’re important, but they’re not permanent.

Now, L-née-Teddy is lying in a pile of dirty blankets, slipping in and out of consciousness. Beyond knows this because he makes strange moaning sounds every time he wakes. He’s been doing this for a few hours, and Beyond has been sitting on the arm of the couch above him, eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes and watching the geometric patterns of the sun that filters through the window slats shift across L’s face.

This is one of his hideaways — a dark little house, half-fallen down. It’s too much of a biohazard to renovate and the property it sits on is too small to be worth what it would cost to demolish it. He wouldn’t call it pleasant. It’s wet, and smells very intensely of mould and damp cardboard. The stairs heading to the second floor had collapsed when he’d tried to use them, so he’s set up camp in what would have been the living room on the first floor, throughout which thick damp vines and spiny weeds that drag at his ankles have grown. A family of raccoons has been living here, and he avoids the corners where they leave their waste.

L moans again, then manages to raise himself to his elbows. He claws himself forwards, the blankets twisting around his legs, then collapses. He makes a low gurgling sound.

“Stop that,” Beyond tells him. “It’s pathetic.” At least he’s finally conscious, though. Beyond has been waiting a day and a half for that. He was starting to worry that L simply wasn't going to wake at all.

L gasps, eyes tracking poorly around the room until they catch onto B. He manages to push himself upwards until he’s sitting, then blinks twice, curls his legs to his chest, and grasps at his temples with both hands. “Backup,” he says. His voice is slurred. “You have to let me go.”

Beyond tilts his head and says nothing. “You have to," L says. “You’re not going to kill me.” He says this with a remarkable amount of confidence, despite the fact that he’s barely comprehensible. His hair is mattered where his head had bled.

Beyond decides to humour him. “Why not?”

“You wanted my attention,” L tells him. “You have it. Call. Call Watari and I’ll make sure — I’ll make sure —“ He looks up at Beyond and blinks at him, slow panic rising across his face. He can’t seem to figure out how the rest of the sentence should go.

Beyond sets his cereal bowl down, then gets off the sofa. He kneels beside L, and puts his face close enough that he can feel L’s ragged breathing.

"I don’t care about your attention,” he says, then flashes L all his teeth. “We don’t know one another. Would you like to know what I think about you?” L’s breathing quickens, but he says nothing. Beyond decides to take that as a yes. He keeps his voice crisp and matter-of-fact.

"What I think is that you’re very vain, and very selfish. I think you consider yourself a good person because of all those crimes you’ve solved, but you only ever pick high-profile cases, things that would have been solved anyway. I think you were aware of the disgusting names Quillsh and Roger gave me and A, but you didn’t do anything about it, even after A killed himself. And I think you know there’s a new generation being shipped in, and you aren’t going to do anything about that either. You want credit for everything you do for the world, but you can't be bothered to live it long enough to know what it needs. I think you're useless. A relic of yourself. A fantasy detective who has no place in reality."

He reaches out and brushes the hair out of L’s face. It’s black as ink. L flinches.

"But I don’t hate you, and I didn’t bring you here to get revenge. I don’t care about you at all, really. You’re just a cancer that needs to be cut out so useful cells can move in. You’re lucky that’s the case, in fact, because otherwise I might want to hurt you very slowly.”

"Then why —“ He waits patiently, but L doesn’t seem able to go on. Beyond wishes he could look inside to see which bits of L’s brain he’d broken.

"I want to be you,” Beyond tells him. "Even if the original dies, the copy is just a copy until you overwrite the original. That’s what you’re here for."

Gently, he cups L’s jaw in one hand, then pulls his chin upwards. L grabs at his wrists but his grip is weak, and Beyond doesn’t bother to shake them off. His eyes are wide, terrified now — he’s finally grasped that Beyond means everything he’s saying.

“So no, I don’t want your attention. What I want is for you to tell me what sorts of things you like.” He doesn’t see any point in waiting. He’s not here to give L some sort of speech about how much better he is. It’s enough to be aware of it within his own head.

L breathes quick, his nostrils flaring, little gasps of air coming hot from his mouth. “What?”

“What you like,” Beyond repeats. “When we were children, you liked sweet things. Do you still?”

L nods, slowly. “I like strawberry cake. And — why are you asking this?

Beyond isn't here to entertain questions. "What else?"

"Yokan. And daifuku. And kakigori."

"And when you’re not eating sweets, what do you like?”

“I don’t — “ His eyes are fluttering shut. B jerks his jaw, roughly, to keep him awake. He makes a soft pained sound and presses the back of his palm against his mouth.

“You must eat something. You can’t live off air and sugar.”

“I like baozi. Backup, what do you want from me?” His voice is muffled through his hand. The slur in it is getting worse. Beyond has to listen very carefully to understand him. He decides to move on to more pertinent matters.

"What do you call Quillsh, when you’re alone?”

L snaps his head up at that, then shuts his eyes and lets out a soft, pained sound.

Beyond shakes him again. “Is he still Quillsh to you, or is he Watari?”

“Watari,” L says, and then his eyes are suddenly very wet. “I want him,” he says, like a child asking for his mother. “Backup, let me call him. He’ll fix this. He can take care of you. He’ll make sure nothing bad, that nothing bad is going to happen.”

"I don’t want him. He doesn’t love you, you know. If he did, he wouldn’t make you look at murders all day in exchange for — what? Money? Housing? How old are you?”

"Twenty-three."

"Mmm. And how old were you when you started solving cases? I was eleven.”

“Twelve.” He’s clearly trying not to, swallowing his own breaths, but he's crying now. The saltwater drips down his cheeks and gets all over Beyond's hands. It's sort of pathetic, this desperate attempt to stay cold and dignified until the end. He's like a child making up excuses as to why he wants to be picked up from a sleepover after a nightmare he won't admit to. God knows why it matters to him. There’s no one here but Beyond.

Maybe he’s different when he’s all alone. Maybe he doesn’t spend all of his time trying to be this inhuman thing, but Beyond doubts it. Demonstrably, objectively, he’s L to the core. If there were anything else to him, he wouldn’t have that name floating above his head.

Regardless, all that fluid dripping down his face is disgusting, so Beyond lets go of him. L pulls back, curling around his knees. “I want to sleep,” he says. “Please. I’m so tired. I feel sick. Let me call him.”

Beyond flicks his eyes above L’s head. They’ve got time. He can give L a little bit of it. He can be capable of charity, if he wants to be.

“Fine,” he says, then presses L gently back into the sheets. #

L does not wake up. #

This is highly inconvenient. He’d assumed he’d have L until his numbers ran out, but apparently comatose counts just fine as still-alive. Beyond tries to wake him by nudging at his ribs and tugging at his his hair. He blows breath into his ear. He even flicks water onto his face like in the movies. L never does anything but shift slightly in the sheets and, once, make a strange keening sound that goes on for a very long time but comes to nothing, and finally Beyond is forced to accept that he’s lost access to his source material.

That's okay. He'll improvise. He's good at that. Maybe it's for the best, anyway -- even as badly concussed as he was, L was still L, and he might have figured out what Beyond was trying to do and started feeling him lies.

Beyond grew up on a farm. That was where he’d been before he’d lost his parents. One of his jobs had been to slaughter the animals. Oh, it was all very silence-of-the-lambs, but it didn’t mean as much as it sounds. Millions of people do the same thing, and they turn out just fine. What it does mean is that he knows how to do it.

When the time comes, he puts L down quick. A fast swing to the base of his head. Nice and painless. L's name winks right out.

He’s not a cruel person. He’s done no more than he had to. He takes no pleasure in it. No grief, either. He hadn’t been lying — L means nothing to him. He’s just a body that’s in the way. Beyond has some practise dealing with bodies. #

There is just one more thing he needs do.

He’s been told that he and the thing that used to be L look very much alike. They’re about the same height, about the same weight, skin just as pale, hair just his dark. In fact, he suspects that this was a factor in why Watari had picked him out in the first place. He’d found a little doppleganger of his precious resource and decided to take it home. It’s really just his face that’s no good at all. People don’t notice what they aren’t looking for and, frankly, he thinks that Quillsh — Watari, that's what he should call him now, he'd better get in practise — will want to believe the lie badly enough that he’ll overlook any flaws.

But the face is a problem. Their bone structure is close enough and their eyes are the same general shape, but a face needs to be exact.

Beyond takes his knife and his mallet into the bathroom. He looks at himself for a very long time, then takes a deep breath and gets to work. #

It hurts. It hurts very badly and he doesn’t like it at all, but when he’s finished he looks back into the mirror and, yes, it’s right there. His heartbeat ratchets up, and then it evens out.

Just as he’d wanted, just as he’d known it would be, his new name is right there above his head. It's clear as anything. Stark and beautiful. He’s done it. Every single thing he’s done has been worth it and every single choice he’s made was right.

L, it says. In bright red, unmistakeable. That name, that title, that thing he’s always deserved.

L smiles, slow. #

Once he’s dealt with the corpse, L puts on its clothes, then slips the phone he’d taken from it into his pocket. Then he walks out into the city, keeping as much as he can to the alleyways.

Like most big cities, Los Angeles is a place where people keep mostly to their own business, but he suspects that someone would step in anyway if he walked through the streets bleeding as badly as he is. L relies very much in on people’s profound disinterest in one another, but he’s not a cynical person. He believes that people are, essentially, good. He himself is not good, but that doesn’t change anything. Rules always have exceptions.

He’ll be good from now on, though. Things has changed. Now, he’s justice. He’s the judge and jury, the hidden left hand of the international police force and the exalted god of the orphanage which raised him for this moment. He’s going to do it right.

He finds a nice dark alley, crouches down amongst the reeking garbage bags, then phones Watari.

L breathes in and then out. He reminds himself that he's scared. He can almost believe it, can almost feel the fear rising unbidden in his chest. He takes in little gasps of air, trying very hard to keep some semblance of dignity amongst the panic he forces into his voice.

“Watari,” he says. “Watari, please. I — he took me. I got away. Please, you need to come get me.”

Watari’s voice comes through the line, stark and professional. There’s a hint of some tender relief behind it, though, which surprises L. Perhaps there had been more genuine feeling between them than he’d thought. No, he corrects himself -- perhaps there is more genuine feeling. Everything should exist in the present tense.

"I’ll be there. Where are you?”

“I —“ L tells him the name of the intersection across from him. “Watari, I didn’t know what to do. I think — I think I might have killed him.”

Watari pauses, just for a second. When his speaks again, his voice is firm. “Let’s not worry about that until you’re safe.”

“You can fix this,” L says. He lets out a shaky breath, then lets a sob hitch at his throat. “I know you will.”

“I’ll stay on the line with you,” Watari tells him, which he supposes is gentleness of a sort, but he doesn’t want it. It will be easier to guess at how he’s supposed to act once he can read the responses of on Watari's face.

Really, though, he's not all that concerned. This was a traumatic expereience, after all. No one could expect him to be exactly as he was. Horror changes people. And, anyway, he's just killed a man. That would have an effect on anyone. Even more so because it was a boy he used to know, if only obliquely. He'd spoken with him in the halls of the Wammy house. He'd held his hand once, and fed him sugar cookies. Probably he hadn't meant for him to be hurt the way he was. Probably he'd just forgotten about him, like a man who drops his dog off at his mother's house then never comes back.

“No,” he says. “No, hang up. I’ll be fine. Just get here as soon as you can.” He lets out another sob.

“Okay,” Watari says, with surprising softness, and the line clicks shut.

L sits in the filth and the dark and he waits.

At last the hard white light of headlamps flares across his alley, glistening off the wetness of the brick. L braces himself, then stands.

He steps out of the alleyway. There’s — yes, there’s a black car loitering in front of it and then, as his eyes refocus in the light, he sees an old man in the driver's seat.

Watari looks very much like he remembers. A little older, maybe. Thinner in the cheeks. Nothing to write home about. But his face blanches when he sees L.

L sways in place as Watari climbs out of the car, then walks towards him. To his surprise, Watari puts his arms around him and holds him close and tight, just for a second, then pulls away. He smells like the same lemon soap as the empty body he'd cut up and hidden had. "Are you —"

“I’m okay,” L says, although of course he isn’t really.

His face is mangled. Beyond Birthday, that monster, he’d slammed it on the marble counter and broken his nose and his cheekbone. He’s had to try it a few times, to get it right. It had hurt so badly that his vision had swum and he'd had to take long, cold drinks from the tap, ignoring the metallic taste from the blood that pooled in his cupped hands. He’d tried to do the jaw, too, but he just couldn’t bring himself to keep going. And once the facial structure was destroyed, he’d taken a knife to it and carved it right up, until it was barely recognizable. He’d rubbed dirt in the wounds, too, to make sure they'll heal badly. They'll scar. He’ll never look the same again.

But he won't be ashamed. He'll be proud of his new face. He'll be proud of everything he's going to become.

“L,” Watari says, very quietly, then puts an arm under his shoulder. “We’ll bring you to a doctor,” he says. “One of our own. We’ll get you taken care of. It’ll be fine. This is all going to be fine. You’re going to be alright.”

“I know,” L whispers. He does. It hurts to talk but he says it anyway, to reassure both of them. “You’re going to make it so nothing bad ever happens again.”

And then he leans on Watari and lets him settle him into the passenger seat as gently as if he were tucking him into bed. He curls up there, looking out the window into the black night, waiting to be driven into the life that was made just for him.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are Weird:   The Hand of Andromeda Ch. 1

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) (New chapters will be posted first to patreon and then moved here) Hanging above the front of the classroom loomed an archaic clock; its arms slowly moving with the passing of each second. To Lizzy Stalwart who was the only student left in the classroom the clock appeared more like a prison warden, watching over her until her hour was due.

Mr. Parkins, her teacher, sat behind his desk just under the clock. He appeared to the casual observer to be going over today’s submitted papers and grading them, but Lizzy could tell from his constant sidelong glances that he was more interested in his data pad he had tucked away in a side drawer. No doubt it was playing the live feed for the Rebound Prix game going on today. He would occasionally look up to watch Lizzy with suspicious eyes before looking away again as if uninterested.

Lizzy had never liked Mr. Parkins as a teacher. He always felt the need to show off his intelligence, always needing to make people feel inferior to him, and always gloating about his past achievements. Frankly she thought that he was having a midlife crisis and this was his coping mechanism, but with each passing day it just became sadder and sadder to watch.

Before Lizzy could further ponder the sad existence of her teacher a series of knocks came from the classroom door. Mr. Parkins looked up from data pad and closed the drawer it was in. He straightened himself out and said “Come in.”

The door to the classroom slowly opened and a towering figure entered the room. They needed to stoop slightly to enter as their muscular build could barely squeeze through the door frame. At first Parkins thought that the figure was just a rather muscular human until the figure fully emerged into the room.

“Thank you for coming on such short-“Mr. Parkins began as he stood and held a hand out then stopped himself. He took a good look at the figure now that he was outside of the doorway and saying he was surprised would be an understatement.

The figure was none other than a Predatorian, standing easily six or seven feet tall and dressed in a coal black suit and matching pants of no doubt expensive material. Orange and black slit eyes looked down at Parkins before looking passed him to Lizzy. As they saw her the Predatorian’s mouth twitched for a moment and Parkins could see a gleaming row of razor teeth behind the smooth blue and white scaly skin.

Turning their gaze back to Mr. Parkins with his hand still held out but unable to move, the Predatorian clasped it with his own hand and shook it.

“It’s no trouble at all.” The Predatorian said. The fluency of his speech was almost as unnerving to Parkins as the sand paper like texture of their skin.

“You-you-you are…” Parkins trebled on as his body switched to auto pilot and continued shaking the alien’s hand. “You are Ms. Starlwart’s guardian?”

“I am.” The Predatorian let go of Mr. Parkins hand who was still dumbly shaking it. “You can call me Mr. B; I spoke with you earlier on the phone.”

“Why yes we did, but I was just thinking you would be-.”

“Human?”

Mr B. grinned, showing off even more teeth as he waved his hand as if dismissing Parkins concerns. “That’s alright; I get that a lot with humans.”

Lizzy watched as her father motioned for Parkins to sit back down which he gladly did. She could tell Mr. Parkins was regaining a bit of his composure returning as he sat behind his desk now that it separated the two of them.

“I was a bit confused why I am here however.” Mr B. continued. “You weren’t specific with what my little girl was in trouble for and I would like to clear up that confusion now.”

“Today was the final exam for the class before the summer break.”

At this Parkins pulled open a drawer from behind his desk and withdrew a single paper sheet from it. He placed it on his desk so Mr. B could fully see it.

“Your daughter was upset with how her grade came out and began arguing with me about changing it. I felt this was most disrespectful and thought her parents should be made aware.”

“That’s because you docked me points for not using a calculator!” Lizzy stood up suddenly and nearly knocked over her chair. “I told you I didn’t need one but you still told me I needed to use it!”

“It’s alright sweetie,” Mr. B said in a soothing tone Mr. Parkins found completely at odds with his appearance, “I’ll take care of this.”

Lizzy pouted but sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. She couldn’t even look at Mr. Parkins without becoming upset at this point.

Smirking Parkins turned from Lizzy back to Mr. B. “You see? Your daughter is smart but her manners can be lacking at times.”

Mr. B was ignoring Parkins and picked up Lizzy’s exam. He slowly went over reading every line before looking back at Parkins.

“Were her answers wrong?”

Mr. Parkins looked confused for a moment but rallied.

“She was docked points by not following the rules.”

“But were her answers right?”

Mr. B walked towards the desk and now loomed over Parkins. He set the paper back down on the desk and tapped it with his talon like finger. He locked eyes with Parkins and continued tapping the paper.

“I’m asking if these answers she gave are right or not.”

“Technically,” Parkins began, swallowing deeply as the locked eye contact whittled away his composure again, “they were correct.”

“Then it makes no sense why you took away points.” Mr. B stood back up to his full height. “She did the work and gave the correct responses.”

“But she didn’t follow the rules I laid out for the exam.” Parkins countered. “Not following the rules will not get you anywhere in the real world Mr. Stalwart.”

“And what would you know of the real world?”

Parkins looked up and saw nothing but pure anger written across Mr. B’s face. The corner of his mouth was twitching once more revealing the sharpened white teeth. His eyes narrowed and his stare turned hard.

“You, who spend every day inside this tiny safe box”

Parkins retreated deeper into his chair as Mr. B grasped the table and leaned forward.

“You sit here behind your tiny desk in your tiny world and think that you know how the “real” world works, do you?”

Mr. B was now leaning over Parkins, his shadow swallowing him up. Parkins clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking as gut wrenching fear crept up his spine like a cold shower. He looked into Mr. B’s eyes for a moment and saw nothing but a barely contained rage, held in check by the thinnest of lines. Parkins’s stare broke away for a moment and looked over at Lizzy only to see she was still sitting at her desk but had covered her face in her arms as if embarrassed.

Mr. B pushed forward Lizzy’s papers. “You will give her the credit she is do or else.”

“O-o-o-or else what?” Parkins stammered, to which Mr. B smiled. Not a friendly smile, but one of pure devilish delight. The kind of smile Parkins had seen on holo dramas from villains just as they were about to commit evil.

“Or else I will have the school board have you removed from your position.”

As Parkins looked at Mr. B’s calm demeanor he could tell this was no idle threat, but more a assured promise.

“Oh,” Mr. B continued as he casually picked some lint off his suit and flicked it away, “I’ll also have you black listed from every school on the planet.”

“But you can’t do that!” Parkins was on his feet so suddenly that he knocked his desk with his knees and sent the contents atop it scattering to the floor.

Mr. B casually shrugged and took on a more relaxed posture. “I can, because unlike you I know how the real world works.” He calmly bent down and picked up Lizzy’s paper and put it on the desk again.

Parkins looked back and forth between Lizzy and Mr. B like a deer trapped in headlights before slumping back into his chair.

“I will correct the mistake.” Parkins said reluctantly.

“Good man.” Mr. B adjusted his suit and motioned to Lizzy. She sighed loudly and rose to her feet, hefting her backpack and heading towards the door. “I knew we would come to an understanding.”

“Your daughter will have no trouble passing my class from now on.” Parkins continued, any shred of dignity lost from the encounter. Surprisingly Mr. B shook his head.

“I don’t want her getting a free pass.” He fixed Parkins with a stern stare again which made him further retreat into his chair. “All I want is for her to be treated fairly.”

Parkins couldn’t say anything and just nodded his head as the two of them left the classroom.

The car ride home from school was uncomfortably quiet for Lizzy. She sat in the back with Mr. B while their driver carefully navigated the busy streets of downtown Gilfield. The buildings flew by like blurry images as the car drove the two of them back home. The car itself was a stretched model with the back lavishly decorated with emerald silk and several bottles of Juvian IV water or exotic liquors.

Every block or so Lizzy would glance over at Mr. B expecting him to say something to her, but every time she saw him casually reading some papers and making notes or dabbing his slowly dying cigar into the ash tray. This went on for about ten minutes before she couldn’t bare the silence anymore.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Lizzy said as she crossed her arms and sat back into her seat. Mr. B set down the papers he was reading and turned to her.

“I’m not upset with you,” he began as he twisted the final embers of his cigar out and closed the tray, “but you know better than to poke the bear.”

“But Mr. Parkins-“Lizzy began but Mr. B held up a hand to stall her.

“I stood up for you because your teacher was being an asshole and needed to be taken down a peg; but that doesn’t mean his point wasn’t valid.” He pulled out a bottle of red velvet like liquid and poured a glass for himself, careful not to spill a drop as the car continued down the road. As the liquid touched his lips his pupils dilated and a shudder ran down the length of his body. “In his classroom he’s the boss, and when you’re the boss everyone under you must do what you say.”

“Until you find a way to do it better.” Lizzy quipped back making Mr. B smile.

“I’m glad to see some of my lessons are sticking with you.”

Lizzy smiled back as she pulled out a napkin and threw it at him. “Were as the ones I teach you fall on deaf ears.” He looked confused for a moment until she motioned down with her head and he saw several drops had spilled on his suit.

“Son-of-a-bi-“he began before the driver cut him off.

“We’ve arrived sir, madam.”

“Thanks Hendriks.” Lizzy was already out the door as she called back to the driver and stepped out on to the street. It was nearly dusk and the city lights were beginning to turn on one by one turning a dull city into a light show of neon and glare. A line was beginning to form around the block as Lizzy walked passed them to the front and waved to the bouncer at the door. To the crowds surprise the bouncer let the kid cut the line and enter the night club “Blitz”.

As she made her way through the club she smiled and greeted the staff still prepping the place for opening. Several of the dancers on stage saw her and called out which she waved back but continued her way upstairs and into the back rooms meant only for staff.

She came to a thick metal door strong enough to take an anti-grav tank rocket and not be dented and stopped. Pulling her backpack off she shuffled around inside until she found he id card and swiped it. The door beeped and lit up green for a moment before slowly rumbling open letting Lizzy continue on.

Unlike the front of the club the back room was an entirely different beast altogether. In place of bar benches and rows of liquor, stood weapon racks and crates larger than her entire body. The scantily clad dancers were replaced with thick muscled guards checking weapons before loading them into storage containers. Even the air itself that had smelled of cologne and perfume was replaced with the stench of weapon oils and hydraulic fluid.

She wondered why her dad had wanted to keep both of the businesses he ran under the same roof but when she thought about it the whole thing was so cliché that no one would believe it anyway. Who would think the largest mercenary company in the Sleisian Belt would be being run out of the back of a seedy nightclub?

She had just made it to her room when an aid approached her. Without a word said they handed her a data pad which she took without looking at it as she opened her room’s door.

“I’ll have it finished and organized in an hour.” She said to them. They nodded and scampered off back down the hallway to the arming room as the door closed behind her.

Her room was modest by comparison to the military quarters outside. Pictures of singers were on the walls and the ceiling was covered with star charts that shifted as the projector updated them every passing minute.

She threw off her backpack and plopped herself down on to the nearby bed. She’d hoped laying there for a few minutes would relax her after the mind numbing ordeal Parkins had put her through but the more she thought about it the more frustrated she became.

Sitting up she shuffled over to her desk and picked up the data pad she had been given earlier.

“Computer, play track seven.” She said as she sat down and began going over the day’s expense report for the company. Just looking over the initial figures she had a feeling it was going to be a long night.